


Love me, Hate me

by Bangtan_Benhead



Category: Breaking Benjamin (Band), Icon For Hire (Band), Three Days Grace (Band)
Genre: AU, Adam is Bi, Adamin - Freeform, Adamin Burntier is a Thing!, Adamin is the Ship, Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Band Fic, Bandom - Freeform, Belligerent Sexual Tension, Confusion, Depression, Depression is a bitch, Doubt, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Drugged Sex, Drugs, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fear of Death, Fear of Flying, Feels, Flirting, Housemates, I just came up with that, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide attempt, Insecurity, Jealousy, Light Dom/sub, Light Masochism, Love/Hate Relationship, M/M, Multi, Music, Music Creation, Not quite over it, Obsession, One-Sided Attraction, Past Relationship(s), Phobias, Plenty of broken hearts, Pop Culture, Possibly Unrequited Love, Pre-Band, Rehabilitation, Rivalry, Rock Stars, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Hatred, Sex Drugs and Rock and Roll, Sexual Content, Sexual Fantasy, Slash/Yaoi/Yuri, Smut, Social Anxiety, Sorry Not Sorry, The band is just formed, Touring, Unrequited Crush, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Withdrawal, and lots more - Freeform, lots of references, possible ooc, too many goddamn tags, tragic backstory, traumatic past life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-04-12 10:54:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4476653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bangtan_Benhead/pseuds/Bangtan_Benhead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Music is the voice of the soul.<br/>Hatred and love are two opposite concepts.<br/>However, they have more in common than what one may think.<br/>Both are better expressed through music.</p><p>[AU] Finding a new place to live is the greatest concern of Benjamin Burnley at the danger of losing his home after the sad demise of his aunt. Without a steady job or enough money to keep a house on his own, he is forced to abandon everything and find a new home that suits his needs.<br/>Toronto seems to be the perfect city to start over again and reach for his dream of becoming a legend of the metal alternative.</p><p>There's where he meets the rocker Adam Gontier, singer of a local band, by finding out that he rented a room. At the same time, a great opportunity knocked on his door, getting him closer to his goal.<br/>However, the relationship between Ben and Adam took an unexpected turn.<br/>What began as a potential friendship soon turned into a fraught rivalry.<br/>How to live under the same roof with someone who you can not stand?</p><p> </p><p>"Love me, hate me. I don't care."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "There's no place like home"

**Author's Note:**

> CONTENT WARNING:  
> This story may present strong/adult language, use/abuse of toxic substances (drugs and alcohol), possible violence or mention of it, among others.  
> Includes Slash/Yaoi/Yuri relationships.  
> The 95% of the characters here mentioned do not belong to me. Therefore, the personalities of each of them may not be accurate (possible OoC, but I hope not).  
> Only some secondary characters, plot and the narrative/redaction are on me.  
> There would also be some cameos and mentions of other artists/musicians through the story.
> 
> This idea was inspired by my irrevocable love for Breaking Benjamin, Three Days Grace and the other rock bands mentioned in the story, as well as the friendship that exists between them in real life.  
> Those people are great, and their music is awesome!
> 
> Please, forgive any grammar/spelling mistake on my writing. I dare excuse myself for not being a native speaker, but feel free to point them out anytime.  
> I would appreciate your critics and comments.  
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> ~ Greetings! xx

 

A month. I had only a month to move out from the property that had become my home since almost ten years ago, before they took possession of it. The words of the bank agent had taken me completely off guard, slapping me on the face with the brutal reality of my situation.  
A squalid month. I had thought that they would give me more time, that they would take pity on me. But those people don’t allow themselves to have any empathy for the others. They were unmoved by my mourning; they were just doing their job.

I looked through the kitchen window, my elbows on the table, nervously drumming my fingers on the wooden surface with a soft thud, desperate. I was lost. I had nowhere to go, I couldn’t keep the house on my own even if I wanted to, and I couldn’t afford a new one with my scarce savings either.

I’d made the mistake of living in a dream, in a bubble that kept me away from the colorless and distressing reality, expecting all of the problems to stay out of it so I could keep on living carefree about the world. But that bubble exploded, revealing me that my life was even emptier than what I had thought.  
It’s sad to know you don’t have the shelter of a home. Some time ago I stopped to belong to one. I had never been so alone, in a foreign city, with nobody to turn to. Just me. And loneliness, which had once been such a good friend of mine, now drowned me silently into the dim depts. The only thing I had left was my music, luckily; I had nothing more.

 

 

Pennsylvania was the city that watched me grow, in which I lived along with my parents for many years. Since I was a kid, I found in the music a loyal confident, a friend that promised to always accompany me, through thick and thin. I could spend whole hours listening to it, getting lost in its color and shape, in all of those emotions that it conveyed to me. It was like if we talked in our own secret language.  
I remember sitting at the piano, playing melodies along with my mom almost every afternoon. I miss those days, when I didn’t have to worry about anything and I could just laugh and sing and play with no responsibilities.

My first guitar was given to me on my twelfth birthday; I insisted a lot to get it, and I was beyond myself with excitement when I finally had it in my hands. I never took a single guitar lesson. I preferred to learn on my own.

It was through adolescence when rock music invaded my world completely. I worked a whole summer at my father’s workshop and saved for months so that I could buy a new guitar, an electric one this time. An ebony _Yamaha Telecaster Pacifica_. It was my adoration! Nirvana soon appeared in my life and they become my greatest inspiration. It was then when I discovered my passion for rock music, and I couldn’t imagine anything else for my future.

I finished high school with my dream very present, determined to pursue it until I became a legend. But the events that happened next weren’t precisely what I expected. A tragic car accident took my parents’ lives without a warning. I had to move with my aunt then, widow of my father’s older brother, to the unknown city of Toronto, Ontario, Canada. I left my country behind.  
I had lived with her ever since, my only family. Or, at least, she was.

I stood a whole year at the Law College before giving it up definitely – which I consider, it was a great endurance for me – making official the fact that I had already anticipated: that was not my thing. I was destined to music, and I dedicated myself entirely to it since that very moment.

I got a part-time job at a music store that was a few blocks away from my aunt’s house; the payment wasn’t anything great, but I completed it with the money I earned from playing at night at bars and other places. That was my way to give financial support to my aunt – who was retired and received monthly pensions that covered our basic expenses – while I kept on doing what fascinated me. And that was enough for us for a while, I dare admit. Until her chronic illnesses got the best of her, leaving me alone again.

 

No family, no home. What would my life become now? I had no one, not even a real friend in whom I could find comfort. I was sunk to the neck, I felt lost, oblivious. I had no other choice but to look for a more economical place to live, a new home. Something I could afford with my laughable salary – which, by the way, I ought to find the way to rise if I planned to survive. And I had exactly a month to find it, or else I’d live on the streets.

 

 

I was done tuning the strings of the guitar in a few minutes. The amplifier was already turned on and all the soundcheck proved positively. A cabled microphone rested on its base in front of me, ready to emit my voice through the whole place. My fingertips stroke the strings once more before the show began. I cleared my throat, approaching the microphone to speak.

 

-       Good evening, everyone. Thanks for coming. My name is Benjamin, and I will liven up the atmosphere a little. This is a song from my favorite band, it’s called _“Breed”_. Hope you like it. – I said, positioning my fingers over the right notes to start playing.

 

The _Pacifica_ sang each note with the expected intonation, playing the initial riff of the mentioned song through the amplifier. Of course it didn’t sound the same without a bass and the drums to accompany, but I could not complain about the sound of my electric guitar. It was amazing.

It was one of the firsts songs that I had learned to play in my _Pacifica_ when I was a teenager, and it was one of my favorites as well. My voice soon joined the melody, enunciating each word of the lyrics as if I could feel the same way Kurt Cobain did while writing it. And, somehow, I did.

The people seemed to enjoy the concert, if my eyes didn’t deceive me. A few of them were singing along, with emotion – notably Nirvana lovers, or at least they liked the song. Some others just listened. I didn’t complain, to be honest. I had to admit I wasn’t that bad on it, I just couldn’t be.

 

After _“Breed”_ , came _“Lithium”_ , with the same success the previous one had. And another couple of songs from the same band, consecutively. I also played a few more songs the public had requested, feeling satisfied for their participation and enthusiasm. My guitar responded to my commands like clockwork, giving out the notes without singing out of tune not even once, which I appreciated. People liked my music, and that was a wonderful sign.

Once the show had come to its end, I thanked the audience and said goodbye. The applause came like lively waves up to my ears. I had noticed that more people had joined the audience as I had started playing, and I dare to say that not to feed my frail ego or anything. I disconnected my equipment, unplugging the amplifier and putting the _Pacifica_ carefully into its case, giving it a night. It had come out to be better than I expected – compared to my worst nights, at least – and that provoked a sense of elation on me.

I headed towards the bar once I was done picking up all my stuff from the wee stage, carrying the black case of my guitar on my shoulder, and holding my jacket with my forearm. I waited for the bar manager to get my pay for each presentation, glancing absently at the customers that were drinking and chatting pleasantly, sitting on stools before the bar.  
It was then when I noticed that a bloke was approaching me, like if he had been waiting for me after my humble concert. I saw him by the corner of my eye. I turned to him; he wasn’t that much tall – or at least, he didn’t seem to be to my eyes, but that could be due to my noteworthy height –, with brown hair and friendly face. He wouldn’t be more than twenty-seven years old – which would be equivalent to my own age –, with a slight stubble on his jawline. He smiled at me in a comradery gesture and admiration shining in his eyes, which gave the impression that he recognized my work.

 

-       Hi. – He greeted, smiling, and I could distinguish a hint of shyness in his voice. – I… I’m Shaun, Shaun Foist. – He introduced himself, holding out a hand to me. I took it, shaking it briefly and smiling back at him.

-       Benjamin Burnley, call me Ben.

-       It’s really nice to meet you personally, Ben. – He said, excited. – I've listened to you play several times in this place, but never had the chance to introduce myself. You played at the bar on the fifth before, didn’t you? My friends and I used to go there almost every weekend. Let me tell you, you’re awesome! I don’t remember having seen anyone with that much talent since Kurt Cobain himself!

-       Why thank you. – I smiled bashfully, feeling the subtle rise of blood to my face. I wasn’t accustomed to the excessive praise. I knew I was kind of good, but I wasn’t used to hear it as fervently as this guy assured me. – It’s good to know you like what I do.

-       Indeed! Well… I wouldn’t want to overwhelm you with all my fanaticism. – He excused himself, with an ashamed smile. – Do you mind if I buy you a drink? The night’s too young to leave now.

-       How could I refuse? – I chuckled. – Thank you, Shaun.

 

Alright, I admit that from there, I began to truly like the guy. He was really kind and nice, and his occasional timidity and quietness reminded me a little of myself. I knew we would get along with each other quite well, and I hoped that was an opportunity to establish a friendship with Shaun. And, fortunately, I wasn’t mistaken.

We took our seats in front of the bar, and the brunet asked for two beers for both of us. I thanked him again for the gesture, and he assured me there was no problem.

 

-       Do you play any instrument? – I asked, once we had our beers in hand and were chatting about triviality.

-       Yes. Actually, that's one of the topics I wanted to mention. – He admitted. – I play drums. My friends and I wanted to form a rock band, but we’re missing a vocalist and a rhythm guitar. I… I don’t know… I thought that maybe you’d be interested. You’re more than good, and it’d be an honour to have you in the team. What d'you say? – He offered, hopeful. – I understand if you’re busy or have any other plans, no worries. It’s just an offer, in case you want to consider it or know someone who’d want the part. – He shrugged, as if to mask the discouragement that my refusal would cause in him.

 

I blinked several times, unbelieving. A band? They were offering me to be part of a band? A real band?! I hadn’t been part of one since years ago, and I kind of missed it. It was way easier to succeed in the artistic world when you had a band to have your back. I hadn’t got an offer like that in a long while, and even if I didn’t know a thing about the quality or the work of these musicians Shaun told me about, I couldn’t help but feel excited about the idea. A band!  
No doubt, this should have been some sort of sign of fate, my ticket to make my dream of becoming someone great come true. How could one disregard such an opportunity?

 

-       Are you serious? I’d love to, yeah! – I replied with renewed optimism, one that had been perishing due to the recent events in my life. – Should I audition or something?

-       Nah, no, not at all! Though you could play something, only to accomplish the standard formalities and such. The guys love that whole theatre. – He said, chuckling.

I laughed too, and nodded.

-       Okay. Sounds actually good. Where would we meet?

-       Oh, right… Well, it may sound pathetic, but we rehearse in the basement at one of the guys’ place. – He confessed with a slight blush in his cheeks. – We’ve got the necessary equipment, though. Instruments, extensions, amplifiers, microphones and all of that.

-       That’s quite alright. – I smiled, taking another sip of my drink.

 

I still remembered my days of rehearsals in the garage vividly, as if it hadn’t been years since that. They were good times, to be honest. I missed those afternoons of fun and improvised rock with my friends – the ones I left behind when I moved to Canada.

Before letting the nostalgia take over me, it came to the spotlight in my mind the so important subject that I had to handle as soon as possible, and I seized the opportunity to get a little help with that.

 

-       Hey, Shaun… Do you casually know of someone who rents a room or an apartment here? – I asked. – I’m looking for a new place to live, you know… something cheap, not too big.

-       Uh, no, sorry dude. I don’t know anyone with any vacancies lately. – He replied, wincing as if he was really sorry for disappointing me. – But maybe Gary knows of something. Dudes always come and leave their brochures or stuff like that. – He suggested, looking around for the bartender that had handed us the beers. – Hey, Gary! – He called him, and soon the aforementioned approached, drying his hands with a small towel.

-       You need anything, Shaun?

Because of the comradery with which he spoke to one another, it was obvious that they knew each other since long ago, and they seemed to have some sort of friendship.

-       The disciple of Kurt Cobain sitting here is looking for a place where they rent apartments or a room. Have you got anything of that sort? – He said, pointing at me with a brief nod. I smiled amused at the reference to my person. – Something cheap.

-       Let me check, bro. – He answered and then turned to some drawers to look for something among the papers that were spread inside.

 

I awaited, expectant, drumming my fingers around my drink with a little anxiety. If that dude had something for me, I’d be more than relieved and endlessly grateful for having taken quite a burden off of my shoulders. I was desperate to find a new home, for I would lose mine in a short time.

Gary, the bartender, turned back to us with a paper in hand that looked like a makeshift pamphlet. He slid it over the bar to me.

 

-       A bloke came a couple of days ago and left this to me. He comes around now and then. He’s renting a room, I think. He didn’t give me many details, but for what he mentioned, it wasn’t expensive and has good space. There are the numbers and the address, if you care to contact him. – Gary informed me, as I took the paper and quickly examined the digits and information written on the sheet.

-       Is he reliable? – I questioned, doubtful.

-       Yeah, he’s a nice dude. – He said lightly, shrugging. – Surely you will get along well, he’s also a musician.

-       Oh, great. I’ll call him then. – I nodded. – Thank you, Gary.

-       You’re welcome, man.

 

Gary went to serve the other clients, leaving Shaun and me to chat for a while more before it started to get really late. Shaun wrote down his number at the back of the sheet the bartender had given to me, and also wrote there the address of the place and the hour when we would be meeting for my supposed audition with my new band – that was, if everything went well and the other band members wanted me in, despite Shaun assuring me that they’d be delighted.

 

I finally bade Shaun goodbye, thanking once more him for the beer and for the opportunity. I couldn’t deny my mood changed completely by the end of the night. It had been a nice show, I had found a potential new friend, and now two doors of opportunities were opened before me: on one hand, they had invited me to be part of a real rock band, and on the other, it was possible that I found a new home before what I had feared. Fate seemed unusually on my side, and I couldn’t feel any more ebullient about it.

I climbed into my car – which actually had been my aunt’s car before she passed away; I never had enough money to afford one of my own, although she lent it to me in case I needed it – and put the case of my guitar and my amplifier on the passenger’s seat. I drove calmly back home, the house that would be my home for the last time and that I would soon lose. That thought disheartened me a bit, but thinking about all the good things that had happened to me that day distracted me from it.

 

I had the strong hope that, from this point, my life would change for the better and I would manage to climb right up to my dreams. I told myself that everything would go better, and that now that I had so many wonderful opportunities, I would just move forward.

I went to bed with such optimistic thoughts, refusing to distrust how good everything seemed to be for now. No doubt, there must have been a trick to all of that, but I chose to ignore it and let my enthusiasm dissipate the depression that I'd suffered until then. Things would be different now, my life would finally turn out to be the one that I desired.

 

But, of course, sometimes one has too many expectations about the future, and I never imagined any of that would ever happen to me. My plans changed the moment I met _him_.


	2. "Yellow brick road"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben has his 'audition' with the band. The decision is made.  
> Burnley and Gontier meet for the first time.

 

 

 

 

I took another sip from my cup of already cold coffee, waiting impatiently for them to pick up on the other side of the line. The truth is that the other phone hadn’t even rang for the fourth time, but my nervousness had me in suspense. I had to refrain myself from biting my nails due to the anxiety – a habit I am not proud of, but I admit to have whenever I'm nervous or stressed.

It was around 9:40am, and I wasn’t sure whether it was a prudent hour to call, but I urgently needed to get in contact with the aforenamed owner of the room in rent and negotiate about the place. In a couple of weeks I’d find myself forced to leave this house, so it was best to have a roof assured as soon as possible.

Before it rang a fifth time on the line, I heard them picking up the telephone receiver and a deep husky voice talked through the speaker.

 

-       _Yeah?_

 

For a split second, I was stunned to hear such voice, undecided if I had disturbed him in some way. I hurried to utter the words, forcing my brain to find the right connections to speak.

-       Uh… Hi. – I stammered. – I… A friend told me about the room that you were offering for rent and gave me your number. I’m sorry if I called too early.

-       _No, no… it’s fine._ – He said, even though I could catch a glimpse of sleepiness hidden in his voice. – _Gary gave you my number?_

-       Yes. – I nodded, although it was kind of pointless for he could not see me, I reminded myself. – I’m interested on renting a room that doesn’t cost much, and he suggested me to call you. Unless it is already occupied, of course.

-       _You’re lucky, it’s still vacant. Is it okay if we met somewhere to discuss about it?_

-       Of course! Could it be this afternoon, around six?

-       _Sure. There’s a café downtown, it’s called ‘Oaken Broomsticks’. Do you know it?_

-       Yes, I’ve gone there some times.

-       _Great. So, shall we meet there at six o’clock?_

-       Sounds good to me. – I agreed, feeling a spark of excitement inside of me.

-       _Oh! By the way, the name’s Adam Gontier. You have my number, if anything comes up or whatever._ – He said before saying goodbye, and for a moment I felt like a complete idiot for having forgotten to introduce myself and hadn’t ask for his name before either, even though he didn’t seem to mind about that.

-       Right, sorry! I’m Benjamin Burnley. Thank you, Adam. See you then.

-       _Bye._

 

He hung and I immediately did the same. I sighed, running a hand through my face and hoping that I hadn’t given a bad impression through the phone to my possible new landlord. It was hard for me to calculate his age, for his voice was of a nice baritone, but it wasn’t as if it mattered much anyways. I just had to wait now to meet him in person and talk about the subject of the room. At least I felt relieved to know that the room was still available for rent, which was a great advantage.

I walked into the shower and got ready for my meeting with the members of Shaun’s band – which, according to what the brunet had informed me the previous night, was still lacking a name. If I made it and passed this little test, I would have a part of my life already for granted. It was like if destiny painted a yellow brick road before me for me to follow. I just hoped it wasn’t too good to be true.

 

Jeans, black and white _Adidas_ , my favorite Nirvana t-shirt and an army green jacket. Once ready, I took the keys of my humble silver _Honda Accord_ and I left home, heading to where I had agreed to meet with Shaun and the band. Fortunately, there wasn’t much traffic on the streets, so I arrived in the scheduled hour without any problem.

 

The front of Aaron’s house – if I remember well, that was the name of Shaun’s friend – was quite pretty itself, with roof tiles and all. It seemed well preserved, despite the inclemencies that the change of seasons could cause on the houses. I parked the car in front, where I was sure I wouldn’t hinder anybody, and climbed out of the car, taking with me the case of my guitar that had been sitting on the passenger’s seat during the whole way. It wasn’t hard to find place, actually.

With a glimpse of nervousness in my system, hoping for the social anxiety that I suffered not to betray me, I approached the front door and rang the bell once, holding with the other hand the case of my _Pacifica_.

In less than half a minute, the door was opened, revealing a smiling Shaun on the other side.

 

-       Hi, Ben! You arrive on time, that’s good. I think you have another point in your favor. – He greeted, with that joy that appeared to radiate from his very core. – Come in, please. The guys are downstairs. Come.

-       Hello, Shaun. Thanks. – I replied, relieved for not having to introduce myself to a stranger… at least, not yet.

 

Panic swept over me slowly as Shaun guided me through the corridor in Aaron's house towards the stairs that lead to the basement, where the other guys were getting ready and waited for us. Dammit! I hadn’t had an anxiety attack in a good while, since I had been a period in the Law College – another reason why I abandoned the studies, by the way.

What if I wasn’t what they wanted? What if I didn’t fulfill the expectations to be part of the band? What if they laughed at me, or if I ruined everything like that one time…? A sea of possible failures lay before me, sinking me into the desperation.  I had the urge to turn around and run away back on my own tracks, climb into my car and go back home until the final day came and I had to move out. But I controlled myself. I couldn’t act like a coward now.

 

-       This way, come. You’ll like them, they’re good blokes. Don’t worry. – Shaun offered me an encouraging smile, as if he could read my mind… or my body language.

 

I nodded, drawing something similar to a smile back at him, breathing in deeply to slacken my muscles. My hands were sweating, and I hadn’t even met them yet. I needed to calm down.

It was funny… to think that actually I could stand in front of an audience – small, that’s true, but it was enough for me to know that it was a greater number of individuals than mine to worry me – without being as nervous as I was in that moment, it was even ridiculous. In my defense, when I was on the stage, I only worried about doing my thing; I didn’t see the amount of people that was watching me, I just thought about them as folks that appreciated music the way I did, and that cheered me up somehow. But, when it was about socializing with people, well… that was a completely different story. I suffered from anxiety since I was a kid, so that’s why socializing wasn’t one of my skills.

We finally descended to the basement; from the corridor I could hear the murmur of their conversations and laughter at some joke, at the same time they tuned their instruments. The basement was capacious enough for the equipment needed, and had good illumination too.

I quickly distinguished the other three figures that chatted with each other in an enjoyable manner, awaiting our arrival. They turned to us the moment they heard us going down the stairs, expectant.

 

-       Guys, this is Benjamin Burnley. – Shaun introduced me, saving me the effort of doing it by myself, which I appreciate.

-       Hi! – One greeted, who seemed to be the youngest of the three standing there.

-       What’s up? – Said another one.

-       Wait, wait… Benjamin Burnley? Are we talking about the same Benjamin Burnley? – Intervened another, the taller one. He looked too familiar to me, and he seemed to know me from somewhere. His head was cleanly shaved, and a short dark beard was starting to grow on his chin. I tried to rummage into the drawers of my memory the image of that guy, without much success. Until I dawned on where I had seen him for the last time. – It can’t be, you haven’t changed at bit, man! What, don’t you remember me?

-       Aaron?! Aaron Bruch?!

-       The same! I was beginning to worry about your lack of memory, dude. – The aforenamed laughed, approaching me and patting my shoulder in a friendly gesture. – But, what brought you here in Toronto?

-       Wait, do you know each other? – The guy with the glasses arched an eyebrow, misplaced.

-       Isn’t it obvious? – The other one teased, a brown-haired guy who was tuning his bass.

-       Where did you meet? – Shaun asked, curious.

-       We were neighbors there in Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania. – Aaron answered with a smile. – Dude, I can’t believe you’re here!

-       Neither do I. Since when have you been living here? I don’t know how we’ve never met. – I said, unbelieving.

-       I know! I moved here a couple of years ago. I never would have thought you were here in town.

-       The world’s a handkerchief. – I shrugged.

-       Tell me about it!

-       Well, it’s nice to meet you as well, Ben. – The guy with the bass drew our attention, jokingly.

-       Oh, right… These are Jasen Rauch and Keith Wallen. – Aaron named them, pointing at each of them respectively. – You already know little Shaun.

-       Since when am I the ‘little Shaun’? – The mentioned huffed, amused.

Aaron just laughed, shaking his head, and spoke to me again.

-       I see you have your guitar with you. Mind to give us a little demonstration?

-       Sure. – I nodded.

 

Now that I knew who the members of Shaun’s band were, and that I had surprisingly discovered that one of them was an old friend from my childhood back there in Pennsylvania, I felt way more easy and comfortable. They actually appeared to be nice guys, the other two; I liked them. And I had a pair of friends in Aaron and Shaun already for granted.

I took out my guitar of its case carefully. Keith, the guy with the glasses and light brown hair – or dirty blonde, I couldn’t decide it yet – handed me an extension to connect it to the amplifier, which I thanked. I had been wise to tune the strings before leaving home, so that I just had to adjust them a little for them to sound properly. The guys sat on an old couch that Aaron had there, acting as public. There was no room left for Keith on the couch, so he had to sit on the armrest beside Jasen.

Once I was ready, I turned to the guys.

 

-       Any request?

-       Why don’t you play last night’s first performance, _‘Breed’_? I love that song, and your version of it is amazing. – Shaun suggested, enthusiastically.

 

I nodded and placed my fingers over the corresponding notes. I closed my eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath and focusing on my task. Then, I started to play. The notes flowed by themselves through the strings of my _Pacifica_ , reproducing the _riff_ of the song accurately. Everyone present had already heard me play before, at some point in the past, but they all watched me as if it was the very first time they ever did. I didn’t get nervous, I didn’t think about it. I just let my mind to focus on the music. It was easy for me to mingle with the sound and get lost in it; music was everything for me, like an alternate reality.

I finished the song just like the night before. Adrenaline rushed through my veins vehemently, causing an agreeable tickling in my stomach. An unexpected series of applauses shook me out of my dreaminess. I glanced over at the guys, whom smiled pleased at my performance.

 

-       You’re even better than I remember, dude. – Aaron said.

-       I told you! He’s great. – Shaun contributed, as if proud of his statements.

-       That was awesome, man. – Agreed Jasen. – You have talent.

-       Thanks. – I murmured, lowering my head, abashed due to the praise.

-       We definitely want you in the band, bro! – Keith declared, smiling. – Now it’s going to be us who’ll have to put an effort on reaching the expectations to share the stage with you.

A blush crept up to my face, unaccustomed to such amount of compliments in a single day. I smiled shyly as response.

-       Hey, you’re overwhelming our new singer! – Aaron intervened with a teasing tone.

We all laughed.

I could barely believe that all of that was for real. I had already been vocalist of a group in high school, when I was part of a garage band along with Aaron himself. We called it ‘ _Epoch’_. Those were good times, indeed. I also was in another rock band during my short period being an academic. Sadly, we didn’t last together as I had expected.  
This, however, promised to be different.  I still didn’t know quite well what I’d got into, but I had hope that it was something more tangible that would take me to reach the top, as I had always dreamed.

 

From one moment to another, we found ourselves wrapped in a pleasant chat, telling anecdotes, talking a little about our lives, knowing each other, joking and laughing as good old pals – and I had the feeling that they would end up being exactly that to me; more than just band mates, they’d become good friends of mine.

Shaun remembered the first time he saw me on stage, a couple of years ago, at the place where I played before. I remember it was the first time I performed in front of an audience of more than a dozen people, and I was so nervous I accidentally broke one of the microphones. Everybody laughed when they heard the comical anecdote.

 

-       Think I’ll start calling you ‘Ben the Breaker’. – Aaron teased, laughing.

-       Hey, it’s not a bad idea. We could call the band that way! – Replied Keith with humor.

-       ‘Ben the Breaker’? Really? – Jasen snorted, shaking his head amused.

-       What about ‘Breaking Benjamin’? – Shaun suggested, who had been somewhat thoughtful after Aaron’s comment.

We all looked at each other, considering the name seriously. If we had to be honest, I must admit that it didn’t sound that bad; in spite of being based on a joke at my expense, it could have been a good name for a band. And the others seemed to agree.

 

-       Sounds good, actually. – Aaron accorded with a nod.

-       Yeah, why not? I vote for ‘Breaking Benjamin’. – Keith seconded.

-       ‘Breaking Benjamin’ it will be, then. – Said Jasen as well.

-       Awesome! You don’t mind, do you, Ben? Is it okay to you that we call the band like that? – Shaun asked me.

-       Sure! We’ll be ‘Breaking Benjamin’. – I replied, smiling.

 

And that was how we baptized the band from that moment, how we got our identity. That day was the official birth of ‘Breaking Benjamin’. The guys and I agreed on celebrating this victory properly, even though we’d have to wait until next week for that – it was just Sunday that day, and during the week I had to work at the store at daytime and play in the usual bar and some other cafeterias and places around at night for a living, therefore I didn’t have any spare time until the next Saturday.

I lost a little more time with them, talking and making plans about when we would rehearse and what should we play. We thought about talking to the manager of the bar where I played and suggested him to let the band perform instead. I doubted he would refuse, and it seemed like an excellent plan to make the band known and become popular among the public.

 

 

The clock seemed to want to torture me. I looked around almost every single minute that passed, with my hands intertwined on my lap, waiting for the said Adam Gontier to appear for our meeting. The _‘Oaken Broomsticks’_ coffee shop had a nice atmosphere, I had to admit, which helped a lot with my anxiety. Restiveness was taking over me with every second spent, with no sign of my possible future landlord.

I looked once more at my watch, letting out a sigh when I ensured that it had only passed seven minutes since the accorded hour. I was being paranoid and exaggerated, I knew that, but I was starting to fear that he’d never show up. What if he had forgotten about our meeting here? My neck would soon begin to ache for turning to look at the entrance so much, observing the customers come in and hoping to recognize in any of them any indicative that told me they were the man I was waiting for. But none of them seemed to be him.

I sighed, turning one more time to the entrance, waiting on my place. At least I couldn’t complain that much, for I had a seat. The socializing thing had gone well with the guys of the band, thus I hoped it was similar with Adam, or I’d be in trouble.

Miraculously, the glass door opened again, giving way to a new customer. This one was tall – perhaps not as much as myself, but he was notably over six feet –, slim, fair complexion and raven black hair; he wore a grey jumper with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows – exhibiting that way a series of tattoos on both arms –, worn jeans and black leather boots. He had all the appearance of a rocker, in fact. The length of his hair, also, reached below his chin.  
He ran the place with his eyes, as if looking for someone in particular, and then I realized. I felt my throat drying, and I swallowed repeatedly. His eyes found mine for a moment, and after a split second he moved towards me with a casual and secure pace, slightly slovenly due to his height.  
Now that I had a better look at him, at a shorter distance, he wasn't bad looking. Under a pair of thick eyebrows, his eyes showed off a hallucinating turquoise shade that seemed to change with the lighting. His features were soft, subtle, but not less masculine or attractive. Thin lips and forehead covered by a bang of hair, both ears pierced. He couldn't be much older than me; two years apart, as much.

His brows arched, staring at me with interest. I hadn’t realized that he was not standing right in front of me. Dammit! I just hoped that I hadn’t been staring like an idiot for too long.

 

-       Are you Benjamin Burnley? – He asked, and I recognized the husky baritone of his voice.

 

It was a nearly impossible mission to find the right connections between my brain and my tongue. It was as if he had reset the hard drive of my head, I could barely react. I wasn’t even sure why, but I was stunned. In the end, Heaven must have taken pity on me because I managed to articulate a response.

 

-       Yes, I… that’s me. – I nodded, clumsily. – You’re Adam Gontier, I guess.

-       I am. – He replied, presuming a captivating smile. I gulped. – I hope I didn’t keep you waiting for too long. I had to get gas halfway to here.

-       No, no… it’s okay.

-       Good. – He nodded, with that enigmatic gaze of his and that smile that was beginning to distract me and to increase my nervousness. He tilted his head a bit, staring at my t-shirt with interest. – Nirvana, huh? I think I already like you. – He said, his smile acquiring a somewhat kittenish hint. He looked at the chair opposite of mine on the table, then turning back to me. – Can I?

-       Please.

 

He took a seat in front of me, which wasn’t very helpful; now I could feel his eyes fixed on my face while I dodged his gaze and chose to alternate my eyes from the table to my hands, and if it was necessary to look at him, I just focused on a spot between his eyebrows instead, totally avoiding the eye contact.

 

-       So – He took the lead, which I appreciated. –, you say you’re interested on renting the room?

-       Yes. – I nodded. – I was looking for something cheap, not necessarily big. I plan on moving during this week or the next one. As soon as possible.

-       I see. – Said he. – The rent itself is cheap. I don’t ask for much; basically what I ask for is half of the monthly expenses of the house, with a minimal added interest, of course.

-       That sounds… quite reasonable. – I noted, considering the offer seriously. That didn't seem too much.

-       There wouldn’t be any problem with the space, either. It’s a big room. It’s… a basement, in fact. It’s unoccupied and acclimated to be a room. You’d just need to bring a bed or a mattress, and whatever you need. I suppose that the ‘ugly part’ of it would be that the rest of the house, except from my bedroom obviously, would be shared by the two of us. The living room, kitchen, utility room… and the bathroom.

 

That said, he looked at me expectant, wincing slightly as if preparing himself to receive my refusal. The truth is that the idea of sharing the bathroom with a stranger wasn’t very much promising. And no doubt I had to ponder it. But I also had to have in mind the scarce budget I had, and how difficult it would be to find to find a better offer in such a short time. I didn’t have any better option, even if I had searched on the Internet and the announcement section of the newspaper for any other vacant.

 

-       I won’t push you, don’t worry about that. You can think about it and, if you still up to, you have my number to let me know. – He assured me, calmly.

For a second, I found those eyes again, and I felt like I lost my hold on reality for a brief moment. I looked away, wishing he wasn’t aware of the blush on my cheeks. I cleared my throat, twisting my fingers nervously on my lap, under the table.

-       Sure, thanks. – I managed to say. – Can I see it? The room, I mean.

-       Of course. Whenever you please. – He smiled, nodding. – Are you free tomorrow?

-       I work half shift. But I have a couple of spare hours before my second job, so maybe… I could, uh… come around there?

-       I think that's great. What time shall we meet? You have my address, don't you?

-       Yeah, yeah, I… Umm… Is it alright at five o’clock?

-       Perfect. Tomorrow at five, then. – He nodded again. He stared at me for a while, with some curiosity in his eyes. His scrutiny was making me uncomfortable. He seemed to notice, for he softened his stare a little. – What’s your job, Ben? If you don’t mind the question, of course.

I shook my head, staring down at the polished wooden surface.

-       I work half shift in a music store.

-       And your second job?

-       I play at night at the bar on the Maple Av.

-       You’re a musician? – He asked, pleasantly surprised. – Wow, that’s cool, man! I also play in a rock band. I’m the singer, actually. Don’t you worry, we don’t rehearse at my place. – He added, chuckling.

 

So he was the singer? Well, honestly, with such a deep and charming voice he had, I shouldn’t be surprised. And it was expected that he was a rocker, for his _look_ made it obvious.  
In fact, now that I considered all things learned, Adam didn’t seem like a bad guy. He was carefree, easy going, friendly and funny, only at first glance. There was a possibility that maybe I could build a good relationship with him, not to say a friendship. And the idea was thrilling, if I must admit.

I could feel the anxiety beginning to yield a little, once I felt more comfortable there with Adam's presence. I smiled back at him, amused.

 

-       Hey, do you have something to do now, or would you mind to have a coffee? I would like to know a bit about my new housemate.

-       Sounds good to me. – I said a tad timidly.

-       Awesome! – He smiled brightly. – My treat.

 

Of course I didn’t plan on letting him pay for me, but I wasn’t going to argue – nor did I feel capable of winning an argument, either way. We spent slightly more than an hour of chatting and small talk, thus letting me know a little more about my new housemate and landlord.

Adam was a really nice guy. And, as much as I wanted to refuse, he insisted and ended up paying for the bill of the two of us.


	3. "I'll be coming home"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once their second meeting was agreed, each of them go back to their thing.  
> The prospect of the events from Adam's point of view comes to light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (The different narratives will be separated by a horizontal line. The first part is told by Ben, as in previous chapters. From the dividing line, the standpoint is transferred to Adam.)

 

 

 

The alarm clock startled me with its deafening chirp of every morning. I groaned in protest, burying my face into the pillow. That was the inescapable fight of every single day. I reached out and tempted over the nightstand until I found my objective, hitting the off button and thus shutting up the hellish noise of the alarm clock.

Reluctantly, I crawled out of bed, rubbing my eyes with my fists and stretching, trying to shake off this way the remnants of sleep without any great success. Not because I could hardly get up in the morning – lie, who doesn't like to stay a little longer in bed? –, but because over the past days I had woken up in the middle of the night, agitated and frightened, due to some nightmare. I had started to have them since my aunt's death, therefore my sleeping hours had been reduced.

I walked into the bathroom to wash my face. The image in the mirror was little promising: dark circles were painted under my eyes, evidencing my lack of sleep, and the paleness of my skin wasn't of much help to disguise it. My hair fell upon my forehead, and I pushed it away, clearing my face.

It took me five minutes to get dressed and go downstairs to get a bowl of cereal for breakfast. When sitting at the kitchen table, a purr caught my attention immediately. I looked to the side to track down the issuer of such sound, just to find my beloved fur ball sitting on his haunches, looking at me with pleading bright feline eyes. I smiled, pushing the chair a bit in order to provide enough space for him to climb up to my lap, as he did right away.

 

-       Lewey, you naughty boy, were have you been? – I stroked the soft black and white fur of my cat, who only purred and rubbed itself affectionately against my hand. I chuckled, rolling my eyes. – You only appear when you’re hungry, don’t you? Have you been sleeping all day yesterday?

 

Well, it was more than obvious that those questions weren’t going to be answered by my cat, no way; however, that was my way to feel a little more accompanied. At least someone around here esteemed me and needed me, and that gave me some motivation to keep moving forward.

I stood up and looked in the cupboard for the cat food that I had bought the previous week – which was already half empty; I needed to buy some more over the week – and then filled Lewey’s food bowl with its due portion for breakfast. My cat could be really gluttonous sometimes. And he was terribly lazy, so I didn’t have to worry about him causing any trouble or mess at home; so much he barely got up from his bed to go to the restroom or play with his yarn ball now and then.

 

Pets had been one of the topics of conversation that we discussed the previous day at my first meeting with Adam, in the café. Of course it was something important to talk about, for I didn't know the opinion of my future landlord about pet animals.  
It was alarming to learn that Adam, in fact, had a Golden Retriever. Even though he assured me that there wouldn't be any problem if I brought my cat, and that his pup was loving, certain doubt grew in my gut. Lewey was a rather hermit and sluggish cat, he didn’t use to socialize with other animals – just like his owner. But I wasn't going to change my mind for a few things that could bother me; one doesn't always have it all in life, and I wouldn't get anything better in the short period that I had to move out.

 

Lewey quickly devoured what I had put in his bowl contently. I checked the hour on my watch. I still had enough time to finish my breakfast, brush my teeth and drive to work. I was conscious that, being Monday, there would be lots of traffic on the streets, so I hurried to do all of these anyways.

 

As I deduced, the car transit on my way to _'Hard Chords'_ – the music store where I worked at – was slow. I arrived on time to my shift, though. It turned to be a calm day, as it was expected. There didn't use to be much movement on Monday mornings. As the afternoon approached, the number of customers that entered the store increased for some reason or another. Around ten people in total, which was a modest quantity, actually. But if I was completely honest, I liked it better that way, for that only meant that I had to talk to a smaller amount of people. Less stress for me.

For some unknown reason, the picture of Adam Gontier haunted my head like a ghost, lurking my thoughts. Well, who am I kidding? I knew perfectly why I couldn't get him out of my mind, and it was precisely because I had thought he was so damn attractive, I admit it. I wasn't sure he was my type, and it wasn't like if I was going to fall for him or something like that either. Besides, it was logical that I thought about him when I was only a few hours ago from our second meeting, so I believe. He'd be my housemate, as I said. Any other considerations or additional titles out of the friend zone were not contemplated.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

My hand shut around the small rubber ball at half of its path, catching it in the air with an agile movement of my wrist. The lads and I were like almost every noon at the old empty warehouse of Barry's uncle – which we had acclimated and furnished to be our official rehearsal room for the band – doing perfectly nothing but chatting once our brains had been emptied sharing our ideas for the new songs. We had already finished working on the riff of one of the songs that I had written and composed for the band.

I threw the ball back to Brad, who caught it from his place on the couch that Neil had contributed- the one he almost got rid of on his last move-out, and which he had so kindly donated to the decoration of our petit private 'studio'.

 

-       So, is that it? – Neil asked, sitting by the other blonde's side on the couch. – The dude's going to rent the room?

 

The topic had come up after having received such an unexpected and somewhat annoying phone call that same morning. It had made me get up early after a horrible hangover! But, fortunately, that wasn't something a couple of aspirins, a cigarette and a nice shower wouldn't solve, eventually.

Brad was looking at me inquisitively, as if he was trying to guess what was on my mind, at the same time a mischievous smile crept onto his face.

 

-       I don't know, dude. He just said he was interested on it. – I shrugged, carelessly. – I guess he'd negotiate terms and that stuff today's afternoon, when I meet him at the _‘Oaken Broomsticks’_.

-       Oh, the _‘Oaken Broomsticks’_! – Brad sang, mockingly. – You only take your best dates there, Adam. On special occasions.

-       Oh, shut up, Brad! – I rolled my eyes, amused. – If I wanted to fuck a dude, I'd do it whenever I wanted to, without even bothering to invite him a coffee first. Ask your brother.

 

Barry and Neil issued an 'OH!' in unison. I knew that was a low blow, but Brad and I had been best friends since fucking Kindergarten. No fight or insult between us was ever for real. We both knew it. Brad threw me the ball harder this time, crashing soundly against my palms when being stopped by my hands before it hit me right on the face.

 

-       Fucking bastard! – He retorted incensed.

 

I merely laughed, rubbing my palms to soothe the burning that the hit of the ball caused me, having left them reddened. Eventually, Brad joined the laughter too, and the other lads did the same.

 

-       Hey, imagine the world of possibilities! – Brad replied. – He didn't mention his age or anything, and you've never seen him. He could be a grumpy and bad-looking man, or he could be a supermodel! Just think about it, what kind of dude would he be? What if he's insufferable, or even worse, what if he listens to Justin Bieber's music? Oh, poor thee!

-       You think I'd accept someone who listens to such rubbish in my house? – I snorted. – You're nuts! Of course I'll seize the excuse of the meeting to see what kind of dude he is. He didn't give me the impression of being that bad, though... except from the fact that he called me too damn early in the morning, of course. I'm smarter than what you think, friend.

-       Whatever you say!

 

The lads laughed, and I simply ignored his comment with a mock gesture offended. We wrapped ourselves into another moment of mindless talks, jokes, laughs and an occasional coup, referring to the subject we had allegedly had concluded a couple of times more before I noticed the time goes. It was getting late for my supposed meeting with the so said Benjamin Burnley.

I bade farewell to the band with few words, otherwise I knew I'd end up staying a little longer to argue and scoff with them. I got out of our rehearsal warehouse and quickly climbed up on my precious navy _Harley Davidson Super Glide,_ and as soon as the engine replied with a soft roar, I was on my way and drove towards my favourite cafeteria in the city.  
But, first, I had to make a quick stop at the gas station to fill the tank. Once covered the fuel issue, I traveled through the traffic rapidly to arrive at the _‘Oaken Broomsticks’_ as soon as possible – keeping in mind the responsibility, of course. I'd never let anything happen to my beautiful _Harley_ , she was the second love of my life; it took me a good round of savings to get her, so I made pains to keep her as new.

 

My life was ruled by three key areas: my family – in which was also found the two girls I loved so much, my _Harley_ and Mabel –, my friends and my music. Nothing else was fit in it permanently. The music encompassed everything basically, including my life style similar to every typical rocker's.

When we were not playing at bars, cafés or small shows, Brad and I worked together at the mechanic shop of his father's friend. I liked bikes and cars, and it was a good way to spend time and earn some money, same which a life of little-known musicians like ours offered. However, we were working on that, and soon we would become big rock stars.

That had been our dream since high school, if I remember correctly. Brad and I practically knew each other since we wore diapers, and we became best friends – so much I saw him like a brother – since then. Since we were kids, we felt a great passion for rock music, and it was a family thing – my father had been a professional _rocker_ , member of a little rock band along with his older brother and his best friend, going on tours all around the country and living off his music. He’s always been my greatest inspiration, just like Nirvana, of course. Those guys revolutionized music.  
We met Neil at high school, and it was then when we had the idea to become a band. Brad played the bass guitar, Neil was the drummer and I played the role of both guitarist and lead singer. Since we were only three members, we came up to baptize our group under the name it keeps to date: ‘ _Three Days Grace’_.  
Barry joined in later on, being the oldest of all of us – not to mention the tallest as well, that bastard was 6'4ft! –, and he became the lead guitarist.  
The four of us had always been good friends ever since, and we spent many years playing together that, more than a band, we were a small family.

 

When I finally arrived to the meeting place, the nice coffee shop of my predilection, I noticed that my watch read a little past six. It wasn't like if I was evidently delayed, anyways. Minutes more, minutes less, who cared?

I opened the door of _‘Oaken Broomsticks’_ and entered, my eyes wandering around, aiming to find the so-mentioned Benjamin with who I had to meet. The place was kind of empty, and there were just a few people sitting by themselves, so it wasn't hard to spot him out. He had turned to the entrance the moment I walked by the threshold, his eyes finding my gaze quickly. I knew it was him then – I mean, there wasn't anybody else who seemed to be waiting for someone else –, so I walked towards the table in which he was sitting.

His hair was short and dark, black as the night sky, contrasting exuberantly with the paleness of his complexion – he appeared to never catch the sun – and the depth of his gaze. It was hard not to notice the dark shadows under his eyes. He was wearing an army green jacket, under which showed the yellow stamp of the so characteristic Nirvana logo on a black t-shirt. All together revealed his identity of rocker par excellence.  
He seemed anxious, shifting slightly on his seat as I approached. His expression reminded me of an intimidated kid, his eyes big and bright staring at me cautiously and undecided, probably wondering if it was me. He looked young; he must've been a couple of years younger than me. If I was completely honest, I'd say that the guy was cute; attractive in a somewhat exotic way, unconventional. There was something in him that caught my attention, besides his notably good taste in music.

I stood before him, arching my eyebrows lightly at his evaluative glance, which far from judging my appearance seemed to appreciate it. I caught then the hazel tint in his eyes, distinguishable at that distance.

 

-       Are you Benjamin Burnley? – I asked him.

 

His cheeks gained a subtle pink blush that matched with the soft colour of his lips, thin and curved like delicate bows. Yeah, the guy wasn't bad-looking at all. Though, to my misfortune, he seemed to be the quiet and impossibly shy type.

 

-       Yes, I… that’s me. – He nodded clumsily. So, I wasn’t wrong. – You’re Adam Gontier, I guess.

Oh, his voice was charming, though. If only he wasn't so afraid of using it...

-       I am. – I smiled. – I hope I didn’t keep you waiting for too long. I had to get gas halfway to here.

-       No, no… It’s okay.

-       Good. – I nodded. There was a brief pause, and I knew that if I didn't resume the conversation, the thing would turn a little awkward. Benjamin didn't seem to have much intention to talk, as I feared, so I had to break the ice first. I tilted my head, staring at his t-shirt, making my interest evident. – Nirvana, huh? I think I already like you. – I said, my smile broadening pleased to prove that my comment had had a positive result on him. He was adorable; if lucky, we'd become good friends. I looked at the chair on the opposite side of the table, to then turn back at him. – Can I?

-       Please.

 

Of course, the question was mere politeness. I would have sat anyways, we were supposed to be in a sort of meeting, isn’t it? But I must admit I liked to hear his immediate response. I took seat in front of him, so that I could look directly at him without any problem. Nevertheless, Ben seemed to try and avoid my eye.

He looked somewhat nervous, uneasy. I deduced that eye contact made him uncomfortable, so I slacken my pose a bit and softened my gaze, without any intention of intimidating him. After all, it’d be convenient for me if he decided to rent the room; a little extra money wouldn’t hurt at all.

 

-       So – I spoke again, for the silence that had settled between us was beginning to drive me crazy. –, you say you’re interested on renting the room?

 

The rest of the conversation flowed smoothly, better than I could have expected, if I must admit. I talked to him about the ‘room in rent’ – actually, it was my house’s basement, which have been acclimated to be an extra bedroom that I had never made use of. Truth is that I bought the house many years ago with plans different to which I had now, but I had managed to survive on my own all this time – and the house general conditions, of course.

After all, the guy did seem interested on renting the room. As it was expected, he hesitated a bit at the mention of the shared bathroom. The house wasn’t built in the cleverest way; it was small and had a single full bathroom. However, the look in his eyes made me understand that maybe he was desperate, especially considering how soon he planned on moving out.

Finally, Benjamin told me that he’d like to see the room, and it seemed quite convenient to me. Thus he could decide whether he wanted the room or not more easily. We agreed he would go to my place the following day, around five o'clock, since he'd be finishing his first shift by then. Of course, I'd already be back home from the mechanic shop as well.  
Curiosity took over me when he mentioned he had two jobs, so I openly asked him what he did for a living. And to my pleasant surprise, I discovered Ben was also a musician. He played at nights at a small bar downtown, same I hadn't visited in a long while – not because I didn't go to bars that often, but I hadn't gone to that one in specific – which explained why I hadn't listened to him play before.

I told him also that I belonged to a rock band too, and he appeared excited about the idea. I could notice, even, that he was chilling a little and showing a tad more open, and I seized such opportunity to get from him as much information about himself as I could. If he was going to become my housemate, I had to know him well enough, after all. I wasn't going to let a psychopath into my house or anything.  
That's why I invited him a coffee, planning on spending some time chatting with him and subtly questioning him about his life. Benjamin didn't seem to be a bad guy at all, that is for sure. He was somewhat serious and pretty quiet in my opinion, but he was kind and congenial. Yeah, maybe I'd get to like him. And he was definitely not ugly.

 

I wasn't sure how a whole hour passed, if not more, while having a friendly talk, knowing each other. He told me the reason of his hasty moving out, and I was speechless, for he was about to lose his home after his aunt's death a few weeks ago. I expressed my condolences sincerely. I knew perfectly what it was to lose someone close.

As I had suspected before due to his peculiar accent, I also learned that he came from the USA, and that he had moved to Toronto nearly ten years ago. He had a cat – a little inconvenience, to my mind, since Mabel didn't like cats; but we'd make that up later, if he accepted the room – and he had just joined a band as vocalist and rhythmic guitar.  
It appeared almost impossible to conceive that in all that time we had never met before. Sure, it wasn't like if Toronto was a matches box, exactly. But, considering we frequented similar circles…

 

At the end of the afternoon, we terminated our meeting. He had to go back to his second job at the bar on Maple Avenue, and I had to go home to see my precious Mabel. He was reluctant to let me pay the bill, as I had promised from the beginning, but I made sure he didn't give a single penny in the end, satisfied at having accomplished my goal. I admit I wanted to win the liking and trust of the guy, and not because I had a vital interest on being friends with him or anything like that, it was just more prudent, if you ask me, to have a healthy relationship – in case he decided to rent the room, of course.

 

My Harley took me back home in a trice. When I parked the bike in front of the garage of my humble abode, I noticed that my beautiful Mabel was sitting on the step in front of the porch. Her silky golden hair shone brightly under the last rays of sun.

As soon as I climbed off of the bike, she ran to me to welcome me. I smiled, squatting down to be at her height, greeting her with open arms.

-       Hello, pretty! Did you miss me?

 

Mabel wagged her tail from side to side vehemently, standing on two legs to reach up for me and lick me on the face, panting as if her heart raced just by seeing me. I chuckled, running a hand playfully through her soft fur, petting her head before standing up again. I realized she wasn't the only one who was waiting for me.

Brad smiled broadly, looking at me amused from where he was standing, leaned against the main door frame. His blonde bangs fell upon his forehead, as usual; his hands in the pocket of his jeans, in casual mode, as if he didn't want the thing.

 

-       What are you doing here? – I asked bluntly, smiling back at him.

-       I just came here to say hi. – He shrugged with mock innocence. I raised an eyebrow, staring at him skeptically. – Okay, okay, I admit it... I wanted to be the first one to hear your fabulous tale. Why don't you invite me to come in, have a beer and tell me how your date with your possible new roomie went? – He inquired, in a teasing tone.

I rolled my eyes, snorting amusedly.

-       You’re worse than Ariel, y’know? – I replied, taking out my keys, preparing to open the door. – Not even she is as gossip as you are. You're acting worse than my girlfriend! – I joked, by the time I opened the door and motioned with a nod for Brad to come in.

-       I worry about you, Wade! You should be thankful. - He said as reply. - Stop babbling and get me a beer, will you?

-       Sure, honey. Do you need anything else? A massage?

-       Well, now that you mention it...

-       Oh, fuck you!

 

I headed to the kitchen, with Mabel stepping on my heels, to get out of the fridge a couple of cold cans of beer and go back to the living room, where Brad was sitting comfortably on the couch. I threw a can to him and he caught it on the air, easily. I dropped myself lazily on the armchair, with the cold can between my hands. Mabel laid at my feet, resting her head on her front paws, quietly. She was only a pup, she was five months old as much, and was my greatest adoration.

 

-       Well? – Brad urged, taking a sip of his beer. – How did it go? How's the dude? Will he rent the room or not?

-       Hey, chill, dude. Shoot one by one. – I laughed. Brad just rolled his eyes, waiting for my answers. – Well, it was better than I expected, frankly. Benjamin seems like a nice guy. He likes Nirvana and he's a musician, so I think we could get along well. Besides he's not bad-looking, I must admit. – Brad arched an eyebrow, drawing a sly smirk on his face, so I hurried to explain: – Shut up, he's not my type.

-       I said nothing. – He defended himself, pretending to ignore what I was talking about.

-       You thought about it. – I retorted. – I mean, he's cute and all, but he's way too shy and quiet to my liking. It wouldn't work, and I have already other interests by the moment, you know it.

-       Oh, come on Adam! We both know perfectly that things with Amanda are not going to last much longer. You'll get bored in the end, as always. – My friend said, at what I scowled.

-       You wanted to know what happened today or not?

-       Fine, fine, easy. No need to get mad, I was just speaking my mind about it. – He shrugged. – Go ahead with your storytelling, then. Is he going to rent the room?

-       It's not decided yet. But it seems most likely to me, since he was really desperate to move out. – I told him, taking another sip of my drink. – His aunt died and he's about to lose the house or something like that, and he doesn't have a steady job, so what I'm offering is convenient for him. They gave him up to a month to move out.

-       Ugh, that's horrible! – Brad winced. – I'm sorry about him.

-       Me too. – I sighed. – He's coming over tomorrow's afternoon to see the house and the room and such, anyways. I hope the mess doesn't scares him that much; a little extra money would do me just right.

 

Brad nodded his agreement, and we both drank our beers. As I had expected, he basically asked me for a verbal description of Ben, and as many details I knew about him or about our conversation as I was capable of recalling. Sometimes, he acted like a big kid. Some others,… he was just an idiot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: 'Lewey' is not the real name of Ben's cat; later on you'd understand this confusion.  
> And, of course, none of the life stories or backgrounds of the guys is true.
> 
> Thanks for reading us!  
> I hope you like the story.  
> ~ Greetings! xx


	4. "A little white porch"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam shows the house to Ben, and they are just about to seal the contract.  
> An unexpected visitor arrives.

 

 

Lunchtime passed by and, a couple of hours later, my shift was over. The sky above looked clear and sunny as every warm afternoon of late July in Toronto; summer shinning in its full splendour.  
It was around four thirty when I left from work, and I headed immediately to the address signaled on the paper Gary the bartender had given to me. There was traffic on the streets, indeed, but it did not take me long to arrive to my destiny. Fortunately, it wasn't that far from my job – which would be a great advantage if I planned on living there. The neighbourhood was quiet enough, there didn't seem to be much movement, and I liked that. I drove down the street, passing by in front of each of the houses in search for the number written on the address. It wasn't long before I found the house.

It was, indeed, a pretty house, of a conservative style, with a little porch in front – where a superb navy blue _Harley Davidson_ was parked –; the walls were painted in a simple white; it was a one-story house, but it seemed to have just enough space. A narrow lateral corridor, bordered by low shrubbery, leaded to a backyard. Some shrubs adorned the front of the house as well. Frankly, the property looked quite nice.

I hesitated when parking my humble Honda in front of the porch, but I tried not to hinder the motorbike's way, in case he needed to go out or whatever. I turned down the engine and sighed, staying inside of the car for a moment, admiring the exterior of the house through the driver's window. I breathed in deeply and finally decided to get out of the vehicle. I was terrified, to say truth; I wasn't completely sure of what was awaiting in there, nor if it was the best option for me after all, but I could not back down just like that. I knew that.

I stood there for a couple of minutes, just staring at the house not daring to move a step closer to the door; but finally my brain sent the order and I walked towards the entrance. I rang the bell once and waited outside of the door, twisting my fingers nervously at my back. If only it were as easy as it seems…

The door was open just enough for a curious little furry head to lean out, emitting excited barks that startled me.

-       Move aside, Mabel! – Adam’s voice caught the Golden Retriever puppy’s attention, which was pushed out of the way with a gentle kick.

The black-haired guy appeared before me, opening the door a tad more so that I could see him with no obstacles in between. His eyes, a captivating greyish blue, found mine, and a smile was drawn on his face, taking my breath away for a second.

-       Ben, hi! You're quite on time. – He greeted, with that jolly attitude and carefreeness that I began to like. – Come on in.

-       Hi, thank you. – I smiled back at him, and did as I was told.

The little Golden Retriever was sitting aside so that she wasn't on the way, panting with her tongue out, waiting until the door was closed again to get up and jump around our feet enthusiastically. She sniffed at my shoes, barking frantically, and I suspected she had to have caught Lewey's scent.

-       Mabel, go to your bed. – Adam ordered, without having to raise his voice to show authority. The puppy wagged its tail and quickly disappeared through the corridor. – Sorry. She’s a bit naughty at first, but I’m training her. – He excused himself.

-       You seem to be doing a good job. – I noted, with a small lopsided smile.

-       Well, thanks. – He smiled as well. – Where shall we begin? Do you want me to show you the house first, or do you want to see the room at once?

 

I shrugged, looking around – which, even if I refused to admit it, was a mere excuse for not having to keep eye contact for too long. Adam’s gaze was intense, but not in a disagreeable way; it simply made me nervous.

 

-       I think we could start with the house, if that’s okay. – I said.

-       Seems great to me. – Adam nodded. – Let’s get started, shall we?

 

We moved through the narrow entrance corridor, to find almost immediately the living room. A couch and an armchair, separated by a coffee table, stood one beside the other before a modest plasma screen assembled on the wall over a cozy chimney – notably in disuse due to the good weather of summer. A can of beer – that seemed to be already empty – laid on the table. An only picture of silver frame looked solitaire over the mantelpiece; to the naked eye, one could suppose it was a family photograph – for what I could appreciate from where I was standing, four people, two males and two females, smiled to the camera, embracing in an intimate pose. I deduced the jet-black haired male in the picture was Adam, and the rest would be his family – for the reliability of it.

 

-       Well, this is the living room, of course. – Adam noted, rolling eyes at himself due to his own obvious words. – It’s small, but I don’t spent much time in here, unless I have guests. You can receive as many visitors as you want, I have no trouble with that. – He smiled, and then continued. – Right here is the kitchen, come.

 

I followed him without saying much, observing the house as he showed me each of the rooms. The kitchen wasn't much bigger than the previous one. While it was a fitted kitchen, it had just enough room for no more than four people. No door; the entrance was located right in front of the living room, with a convenient view to the TV. Oven and stove, sink, fridge and all the basic electrodomestics – such as blender, micro-wave oven and coffee maker – were all found there. In the other side, there was a simple wooden table with only four chairs, which was more than enough for two people. A window over the stove showed off a nice view of the backyard, and in the adjacent end there was a door that lead there outside. Looking through the kitchen window – whose curtain was collected to the side to clear the view – one could appreciate some old swings that ornamented the green garden, bordered by short bushes without flower.

 

-       The kitchen. – Introduced Adam with a subtle gesture. – There aren’t many rules here. We can have our utensils and food separately, if it's more comfortable for you that way, and take care of our own stuff. You can use the stove or the oven whenever you need them. - He said. – You cook?

-       A little. – I admitted, shrugging.

-       Good. – He nodded, a smile on his lips. – I'm not the best cook, but I can fend for myself. I've managed to survive for all these years, so I mustn't be that bad. – He joked amusedly, to what I smiled.

 

With a small nod, Adam indicated me to go back to our touring, getting out of the kitchen and heading down through the corridor. I followed his steps closely, as I looked with curiosity at the quite discreet house's decoration. There wasn't many paintings hanging on the walls, a handful of them all around the first floor, as much. And there wasn't a single family picture at sight, other than the one that was exhibited in the living room. An occasional flowerpot laid at the corners, only where they would be needed to fill some space.

The floor was made of wood, and the walls were painted in a gray so light it seemed more like white. The air inside was warm and nice, besides Adam had assured that the heating worked fine, so it promised to be well acclimated to stand the grim temperatures of winter without becoming an ice cube. And that was more than perfect for me.

 

-       This door here is my bedroom. – Adam noted, as we passed by through the narrow corridor. – And this one over here is the bathroom. – He said, as he reached to open said door to demonstrate his point.

 

He moved aside to allow me to look into the bathroom, and I leaned out through the door to sneak a glance. Well, the bathroom of my room at my aunt's house used to be smaller, so I couldn't really complain. It had enough space for the toilet, sink and the shower. The walls were covered in light blue tiles, there was an oval mirror over the lavabo, and in front of this - settled on the opposite wall – was a pair of metallic shelves for the towels and other products – besides the ones that were surely kept in the drawers under the sink. The positive thing about all this was that the shower was tall enough for me, so I wouldn't have to worry about hitting me on the head each time I showered; that was already a win. A small window shown on one of the lateral walls of the shower, at an adequate distance from the floor.

 

-       It looks good. – I commented, glancing all around. – I suppose sharing it won't be a great deal, since we're only two and we're both males.

-       Yeah, I guess. – Adam nodded. – Anyways, we could always reach agreement about it. We're grown-ups, aren't we? – He smiled amusedly, and I gave back the gesture. – Well, it's time to see the room. It's over here, come. Right this door.

 

We left the bathroom behind to go to the door that was right at the other side of the corridor – I had to admit, it was convenient to have the bathroom so close, in all case. Adam turned on the switch that was beside the door, on the adjacent wall; the bulb illuminated a staircase that went down to the basement, the walls were of reddish bricks on the inside. My host was the first one to descend, leading me to my future bedroom – if the contract was signed, which was the most likely to happen given the circumstances and how good the house looked.

It was impossible for me to deny it, I was terribly nervous; it wasn't easy for a fearful person like me to imagine themselves living in a dark and lonely basement, but I reminded myself that I wouldn't be alone in that house and that there was nothing to fear. Besides, the house was really nice and cozy to refuse such convenient offer just because of my ridiculous fears – which for anyone would seem incongruent according to my age.

The basement was not like the one I had seen at Aaron’s place the previous day; this was a bit more spacious, and the light was distributed equally to every single corner, clearing the room in order to have a better look of it. There wasn’t any furniture there yet but, as Adam had said, the room was completely empty. There was no sign of humidity on the walls either, which was wonderful. A window at the left let the daylight in – so it was somewhat unnecessary the artificial light of the bulb.

There was enough space for a double bed, with its night table, a wardrobe and a base where to put the TV, and even then there would be some spare space. It was awesome! Definitely, now that I had a better look at it from my place, I could get used to a life like that one; I would adapt, I’d do it without a problem.

I noticed then that there was a small door to the right at the back of the room, at the corner under the staircase. I tilted my head with curiosity, and Adam followed my gaze – until then, he had just stood there a few steps away from me, only waiting for any comment or observation – and he hurried to explain:

-       That’s the washroom. I think I forgot to mention that as well. – He excused himself, scratching his nape vaguely. – As I said, the house wasn’t built in the most brilliant way.

He walked towards the metallic door, painted in white, and opened it to reveal the inside of the service room he had aforementioned. Inside the space was reduced; there was a washing machine and its corresponding dryer, and a couple of empty baskets piled up on the side.

-       I hope it won’t be an inconvenient or something like that; it’s something we could also be talked, of course. I only do the laundry on weekends, a little before midday, so I don’t think I would bother you much with that. – Adam said.

-       Sounds reasonable. I don’t think there would be any problem with that. – I nodded, shrugging.

-       Great. – He smiled. – So, what do you think? Are you sure you want to rent the room? It’s not much, you see, but it’s what I can offer. I think the price is fair. What do you say?

 

I looked around once more, appreciating the whole basement and weighing my options. In fact, the place was not bad; it looked very promising, and the offer itself was attractive. What was there to lose? It’s not like if there was much to consider, anyways. Adam seemed to be a nice guy, the place was agreeable, the price of the rent was more than reasonable, and I could not really complain about the space… What else could I ask for?

 

-       I like it. – I admitted with a smile. – I think I do, yeah. I’m renting the room.

-       Awesome! – Adam grinned, patting my shoulder in a friendly way. – Welcome home then, mate. You can bring your stuff whenever you think it’s convenient for you.

-       Sure, thanks.

-       Good. Now we only have to clarify some terms and all of that. Do you mind if we go upstairs to sign the papers? I want the thing to be more or less official, so that we could spare us some conflicts and misunderstandings, shall we?

-       Okay. – I replied likewise.

 

We then went back upstairs to the main floor through the narrow staircase. Adam let me go first as a courtesy gesture, to which I mumbled a coy “thank you” accompanied with a small smile. I headed towards the living room, as I supposed it would be a prudent place to talk about terms and make the last agreements before finally signing the contract, with Adam coming right behind me.

Once there, I turned to wait for my future landlord. The raven haired opened his mouth to say something –possibly to invite me to have a seat– but before he could even articulate a word, the tune of ‘ _Smells Like Teen Spirit’_ interrupted him right away. The ringtone came from Adam’s pocket, and he swiftly took out his cellphone. He gave a quick glance at the gadget’s screen before answering, and I nearly missed the subtle grimace he drew after reading the name on display.

 

-       Hi, honey. What’s up? – Adam talked through the phone, with less excitement than the one he simulated.

 

He gesticulated in my direction, excusing himself to attend the phone call privately. I simply nodded, and he motioned at me to sit down while he held the receiver against his ear. I watched him walk off down the hall to the kitchen, and a second later I heard the backdoor being opened.  
I sighed, at the same time that the murmur of his baritone voice diminished as he walked outside. From what I managed to get from his tone –without the littlest intention to meddle in the conversation he had by telephone with whom I assumed would be his girlfriend–, he didn’t sound quite zestful.  
I chose to do as I had been indicated and sat on the armchair, clasping my hands on my lap, waiting patiently –or relatively calmed– for Adam to come back.

I seized the time to observe the room, meanwhile. Adam’s house was, in fact, pretty. I stared at the chimney for a while, undecided; but, in the end, the curiosity took over me. It hadn’t passed even a minute, and I was standing up once again. I walked to it and watched with interest the frame laying on the mantelpiece. As I had guessed before, the dark-haired male that shared the center of the picture with a notably younger girl was Adam, some years ago. He didn’t look older than twenty-five in the picture, and he smiled with a joy that reached his clear eyes. He looked even better when he smiled that way, and I wished I could be able to see it in person (however, I’d later learn that it was something he didn’t do since a long while, but there will be time to explain that).

Before I had the chance to thoroughly contemplate the other people that appeared in the photo as well, the sound of the door being opened startled me. It took me a split second to recover and notice it had not been the backdoor in the kitchen but the front door to the house. This realization occurred just by the moment a voice, rather feminine and melodious, irrupted in the house from the corridor.

 

-       Where’s the most handsome man of Toronto? – She called in a sort of singsong.

 

As soon as I turned towards the corridor, I saw her appear in my view, leaning out as if she was looking for someone –who evidently should be the owner of the house. She stopped dry on her tracks once she entered the living room; her eyes met mine, large and expressive, of a fascinating hue close to turquoise –although it would probably be because of the lights, for when she approached me with a cautious pace, I could distinguish small gray and greenish streaks on them.

 

-       Apparently, he’s here. – She said, drawing a charming smirk on her pink mouth.

 

She was… pink. Well, not all of her, but… her hair. She had it short, below her chin, layered –in a way the tips of her hair pointed at all directions, tousled– and dyed a striking fuchsia. The color shone against her spotlessly white skin –except for few minuscule freckles that loomed under her makeup. The black eyeliner and smokey eyeshadows highlighted the clarity of her irises.  
She was young –she’d be twenty-four years old, as much–, of short height; she’d hardly reach my shoulder –considering she wore black strap boots with high heels–, and she was really pretty. Her silhouette was slim and shaped, with smooth curves in the right places where women usually have them.  
She was dressed in a very singular way: her clothes had a punk/gothic style, prevailing the black color, with matching accessories, combining a variety of different garments and makings as if a clothes avalanche had fallen upon her and had created a fashion masterpiece. A black tank top with a pink pattern on the side, black net fingerless mittens, a pink and black punk tutu over some black torn leggings and a pin that resembled a black rose that adorned her hair. Being honest, everything on her looked dazzling.

 

-       Wait a second… – She squinted her eyes slightly, staring at me with sheer interest and a hint of recognition in her gaze. – I have seen you somewhere, but I’m not sure where… Oh my God! You’re the guy who plays at the bar in Maple Avenue! – She said, smiling excitedly and rising her voice a couple of decibels.

I blinked, somewhat inhibited by her beaming enthusiasm. The words came from her mouth so rapidly I was barely capable of catching them all. However, I smiled shyly at her.

-       Uh, yeah… That’s me.

-       Benjamin, isn’t it? – I nodded in response, and she held out her hand kindly towards me. – I’m Ariel, Ariel Bloomer. It’s a real pleasure to meet you in the flesh, Ben. Wow, who would have said I'd find you here? – She smiled to herself, shaking her head in amusement.

I shook her hand briefly, not being able to prevent the –hopefully– subtle creep of blood to my cheeks. It was awkward for me to be recognized out of work, and I still didn’t quite get who that girl was and what was she doing in Adam’s house anyways. I had managed to spot certain accent on her voice different to that characteristic one of the Canadians.

Ariel looked around, as if expecting the black haired man she searched for would suddenly appear somewhere around. Then, she turned her large clear eyes to me, with curiosity.

-       Where’s Adam?

-       He’s outside getting a phone call. – I replied, to which she nodded in understanding.

-       I see. – She said; thereupon, she smiled at me once again. – And… what brings you around?

-       I… I’m here to rent the room. – I managed to say, forcing my social anxiety to stay out.

-       You’re moving here? That’s awesome!

 

Ariel seemed truly enthusiastic about the idea. For some reason, that made me feel a tad more comfortable with that, as if someway she was welcoming me. And I liked it. I noticed that her eyes acquired that spark of interest again and something else I could not label, but it surely had to do with the little smirk she appeared to try and hold back on her lips, without much success.

 

-       Since when do you know Adam? He hasn’t told you about me, has he? – She said.

-       No, not actually. Sorry. – I smiled apologetically. – The truth is that I met him just yesterday afternoon.

-       Really? Wow! And you’re moving with him so fast? Now that's courage! – She joked, chuckling.

-       You seem to know him well. – I commented, not knowing how to ask her about her relationship with Adam.

Ariel seemed to get my message, for she smiled widely and quickly explained herself.

-       He is my brother.

 

My face should have been the very picture of surprise, either of revelation, because Ariel burst into a lilting laughter.  
Oh! Well, now it all made a lot of sense, to have there enough confidence for Ariel to come in and out of the house without a problem or any kind of restriction. Nevertheless, her foreign accent and the null resemblance between them –unless the grayish hue in their eyes meant any kind of relationship between the two of them– still left some loose ends in my head.

 

-       You don’t look very alike. – I noted, tilting my head a bit.

-       Oh, no, it’s because he’s adopted. – She said lightly. – That’s why our surnames are different.

 

I arched both brows at her words, which honestly had taken me off guard. Ariel looked amused by my reaction, for some reason; but before I could question whether it was actually a joke, Adam appeared again through the corridor, finding us both standing in the middle of the living room and stopping dry, disconcerted.

 

-       Ariel? What are you doing here? I didn’t hear you arrive. – The raven haired spoke, stepping forward to greet his so-called sister.

-       Hello, big brother! – Ariel greeted cheerfully, ignoring the questions of the aforenamed. – Why didn’t you tell me you were going to rent the room to this celebrity?

-       You know Ben? – Adam raised an eyebrow, darting his gaze from the pink haired girl to me.

-       I’ve listened to him playing at the bar, if that counts. – She shrugged, offering him a radiant smile.

-       Well, I guess I won’t need to introduce you. Seems like you already did that while I was absent. – Said the black haired, with a hint of suspiciousness in his voice. Ariel chuckled, shaking her head, amusedly. – Anyway, why did you come?

-       Oh, I just came here to pick up the films you borrowed a while ago, so that I could watch them on ‘Movies Saturday’.

-       Ariel – Adam said, staring at her unbelieving. –, it’s freaking Monday.

-       So? Can’t I visit my brother on Mondays? – She replied, to which Adam rolled his eyes.

-       You win, Bloomer. They’re in my bedroom, on the shelf. – He indicated, nodding towards the corridor in spite of being obvious she already knew the way. – Oh! And, now that you’re here, could you feed Mabel? Ben and I have to discuss about the rental agreement and such stuff.

Ariel nodded, turning to me once again with that beautiful smile of hers, which would surely brighten up anyone’s day.

-       It will take me just a second, I promise. I don’t want to say goodbye to Ben yet. – She said, at the same time she winked at me in a confident and somewhat flirty way. – Meanwhile, you two have fun talking about your terms or whatever. Try not to miss me that much.

-       Woah, now that’d be a challenge. – Adam noted sarcastically.

 

Ariel laughed at that and disappeared through the corridor, heading toward where I remembered was Adam’s bedroom. There was a long second of silence settled in the living room once the girl had left; Adam stared at me cautiously, as if he suspected something had happened between me and Ariel while he was gone. And of course I couldn’t blame him for having his doubts, for his sister was positively eye-catching and charming. However, it was a shame she was not really my type.

 

-       So… shall we discuss the contract?

-       Sure. – I nodded, awkwardly.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Ben and I were in the kitchen, talking about the rental agreement. Of course I had expected things to be at least demi-formal, setting terms and some limits and rules from the beginning; that would save us much trouble and make the cohabiting easier. And it was important for us to know about each other’s habits and life styles, especially considering how hard it could be to live with me –so much my own best friend refused to share a house with me in a permanent way.

 

-       So, you have no trouble with untidiness? – I had asked at some point of the conversation, both sitting at the kitchen table.

-       Not really. – He said, shrugging. – As long as it doesn’t interfere with my personal space or my stuff.

-       Sounds quite fair to me. I don’t mind if you do whatever you want with your space, either, so I think that’s quite alright. – I noted, lightly. – About the bathroom, well… we’ll only have to agree on terms of hours and turns and stuff like that, I hope it won’t be a big challenge. We just have to keep it clean and each one would take care of whatever we do in there.

Ben nodded at my words, being just as expressive as ever. Would he ever move on his timidity once we became housemates? That was something I didn’t know, but I really hoped it happened that way. I let that pass and focused on the clauses instead.

-       Now, about visitors: you can bring home anyone you want, as long as you let me know at least a few minutes earlier. If you want to bring your girl home and hang out or anything, that’s totally fine. – I said, and for some reason the guy found my comment hilarious, for he chuckled.

-       I don’t think there’d be any problem with that. – He replied with humor.

His smile was lovely, so honest on his thin lips, and I smirked back at him.

-       I say it because, in fact, my friends or my little sister use to come visit me at any time of the day. – I admitted. – And also, I use to bring my dates home. I hope that doesn’t bother you.

-       No, not at all. – He responded immediately. – It’s alright, it’s your private life.

-       Anyways, I recommend you to have some good headphones or ear plugs at hand. – I added in a teasing tone, smiling impishly. – You know…, in case things get kind of awkward for you.

 

Ben’s reaction to my comment was a bright blush that spread quickly through his cheeks, getting rid of his paleness for a moment. I couldn’t help but laugh. Although, being honest, what I said was nothing but true.

 

-       No, seriously, it’s alright if you want to invite someone to the house. – I said. – But if you want to throw a party here, I’m afraid that I’d be automatically invited and would’ve the right to bring my friends as well.

-       Fair enough. – He conceded, a slight smile. – Although I doubt that would be the case, honestly. And I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to throw a party here either.

Well, I could not argue that; Ben did look more the type of quiet and private guys who stayed home on weekends than the one who goes partying with their friends –which, I must admit, I did very often. I knew we wouldn’t have any problem about that matter.

I nodded, offering him a friendly smile.

-       Great. You’re not allergic to dogs or anything in particular, are you?

-       Uh, no, not really. At least, I have no acknowledged allergies by the moment. – He replied, shrugging.

-       Good. That’s good, I guess. Will you bring your cat with you, then?

-       Yeah, as soon as I’m moving here. It won’t be a problem, right? Because, well… I’m not sure about how will my cat react to Mabel. He’s kind of bearish.

-       Oh, no worries. I don’t think it’d be a big deal. I mean, Mabel has never been in contact with cats, but… she’s only a pup, she wouldn’t do any harm. – I said lightly, even though my words didn’t seem to soothe the guy. Truth is that I had my own doubts about whether this pet’s thing would actually work, but I wanted to keep hopes up as long as I could.

 

We agreed a couple of things more about the rent payment and topics of that nature before we set out to finally sign the contract. I was barely able to ponder that, one day to another, I had already found a housemate –who was, at the same time, a perfect stranger, but who frankly seemed to be a nice guy. Events had occurred in such a hasty and ridiculously convenient way that I could not argue anything against it even if I wanted to.

 

-       Give me a minute, I’ll get the contract. – I announced before standing up and exiting the kitchen quickly.

When passing by the living room, I saw that Ariel was sitting on the couch, with Mabel laying on her lap while she stroked her and scratched her ears playfully. I smiled at the scene and approached her.

-       Hey, can you tend Ben while I look for the papers? He’s in the kitchen.

And, of course, I didn’t have to ask her twice. She practically jumped out of the couch –startling my poor doggie and making her jump off the couch just as quickly and rush towards her bed in my room– and looked at me with such a wide and gleeful smile that could be easily compared with that of the Cheshire Cat of the tales.

-       Count on me, brother. – She chanted, and then she walked toward the kitchen with no hesitation.

 

I rolled my eyes and chose to put the issue aside and go back to what I was doing moments ago. I would talk to her about it later, and I wasn't completely sure about what was what we needed to talk anyways. So that's why I decided to ignore the matter temporarily –or rather say, postpone it.  
Thus, I went up to my room and searched for the papers I needed for all that business into one of the drawers by my bedside. Once I found the documents that would make the renting process more official and formal, I took a pen from the drawer as well and went back to the kitchen, where they were waiting for me.

I was pretty sure it hadn't taken me five minutes, and Ariel was already sitting on my place, nicely chatting and laughing at some joke with Ben. It's not that I usually acted like a jealous or overprotective older brother with her, but I did prefer not to know whenever she was flirting with some dude. And it was so obvious the interest she felt toward the black haired guy before her; after all, I could not blame her, Benjamin was totally her type: tall, dark haired, rocker, sweet on the inside.

I held back the urge to hawk the moment I stepped into the kitchen once again, the clear intention of being noticed by the both of them, when I recognized that kittenish smirk and the spark in Ariel's eyes, who was leaning forward over the table as if she wasn't aware of her own actions. However, Ben actually didn't seem to notice it.

 

-       Here are the papers. – I informed, successfully catching the attention of the two of them. Ariel straightened up a bit, as if getting my hidden warning stare, while Ben simply turned his bright hazel eyes to me and nodded, smiling softly.

 

I left them on the table in front of Ben for him to read them calmly and thoroughly, and so he did, taking them as soon as I had laid them on the wooden surface and put his whole attention on those sheets. Ariel, meanwhile, dedicated me a cynical smile.

 

-       Guess which is his favourite Nirvana album? – She told me, with the same enthusiasm with which a teenage girl talks about the boy she fancies or her favourite band.

I shrugged.

-       No idea. Which one? – I asked, feigning interest.

-       _Nevermind_.

-       Really? – I quirked an eyebrow, suddenly curious about this fact. I looked at the black haired guy, who was staring at us with a coy smile barely curving his fine lips. He nodded in response. – That’s cool! It’s my favourite album, too. – I said honestly.

 

Well, I could not deny this guy had a strange ability to get my liking, in spite of everything. And it was interesting to know that we had certain things in common, which would only allow us a more bearable cohabitation at best. To give Ben an opportunity was the best and more sensible thing I could do then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me a while to finally finish the traslation of this chapter, but here it is. Hope you enjoyed it! :)  
> Also, feel free to point out any grammar/spelling mistake. I'm doing my best.


	5. "It's a Cowardly lion"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ariel admits her attraction to Ben, with what Adam is not very pleased.  
> A meeting at the bar and some awkward moments.

 

     -  You’re left-handed! – Ariel declared, who had spent all that time watching the black-haired man before her with rigorous attention, like if she had just discovered the most fascinating fact in the world.

Her words were so sudden and unexpected – breaking the momentary silence that had settled between the three of us in the kitchen until then – that I could not help but startle a little when hearing them; and, if I’m not mistaken, Ben suffered the same surprise. One could assume that by this time I would have been already accustomed to the unpredictable explosion that my dear little sister was, but the truth is that it would be impossible to get used to that euphoria bomb.

Ben was holding the pen that I had previously lent him in his left hand, and had been signing the room’s rent papers, brief seconds before Ariel interrupted him on his labour. Being honest, that was a detail I had disregarded until she mentioned it, and which immediately caught my attention – even though I wasn’t sure why that was important, anyways.

 

     -   Yeah. – He nodded, a little coy about the attention given to him and visibly disconcerted.

     -   But you play the guitar with the right one, if I remember well. – My sister noted in return.

Sometimes I was really impressed of how sharp-eyed Ariel could be. That, or she was rattling idle most of the time. And it was noteworthy that this guy was of her obvious interest, so…

     -   Oh…, that. – A small smile hovered on the corners of his lips as he replied. – Yes, I… learned to play the guitar as a right-handed. But, in everything else, I’m left-handed.

     -   That’s awesome! – Ariel praised, smiling in a radiant way as ever. Right in the moment my eyes caught sight of the ink designs on Ben’s knuckles, the pink-haired girl went ahead again. – Nice tattoos, by the way. Wait… Are those the _Transformers_?

 

Ben nodded in response, averting his gaze to his hands; I had the impression that he was holding back the urge to hide them in his pockets, by the way they rested somewhat tensely over the table. I looked at him with curiosity, genuine this time. If tattoos were the subject matter, then I was interested.

 

     -   Who are those? – I asked, before even noticing.

     -   Optimus Prime and Megatron. – Ben said, his hazel eyes sheepishly meeting mine for a moment.

     -   Cool! When did you get them?

     -   It was years ago, in high school.

     -   Are you fan of the comics?

     -   Yes. Actually, I used to own almost the entire collection.

     -   What happened to it?

     -   I sold it so I could afford the amplifier for my electric guitar. – He explained, shrugging. – But it was worth it, I guess.

     -   I should think so.

 

Well, that was some new information for Ben Burnley’s special mental records. I still wasn’t sure whether being a _geek_ made him more or, on the contrary, less thrilling, but for now that was something that I didn’t care much about. Ariel, on the other hand, seemed to be truly ecstatic with all the small things she learned about Ben.

I tried to be faster this time, and before my sister could intervene again, I hurried to revisit the issue that had caught my attention toward the shy black-haired man before me.

 

     -   You have some others? – I asked him, pointing with my gaze at the tattoos on his hand to obviate what I was referring to.

     -   A few. – He admitted.

 

I thought I noticed some reluctance in him the moment the replied; that, or it was just his remarkable timidity that wreaked havoc on him again. I wondered if that would be because we barely knew each other or did he behave that way all the time. If such was the case, cohabitation would only become awkward and unprofitable for both of us, I was afraid.

I chose not to mind much about this and dedicated myself to watch his curious calligraphy while he was drawing his signature –which was merely his three-letters short name in cursive script– over the indicated line, followed by his full name. Once he had finished, the large pair of hazel eyes turned to me whilst Ben ceded me the pen and subtly slid the document over the table so that I could sign it as well.

 

     -   Thanks. – I said lightly, taking it and leaning over the wooden surface to scribble down my full name and my signature on the corresponding blank space.

 

Thus, the contract had been sealed under the respective names of Adam Wade Gontier Bond and Benjamin Jackson Burnley IV. It appeared kind of odd to me to know so many things about a person in such a little time, since I had never considered myself an inquisitive guy or anything; but, to say true, it was interesting to learn about that sort of facts, apparently insignificant, that could eventually be of great use to get to know my new housemate.

 

     -   Perfect! It’s done, then. – I left the pen down beside the signed document and gave Ben a friendly smile, hoping that that way he would feel a little more confident around me.

 

The gesture was successfully returned, as if gaining this dude’s trust was some great achievement. Yeah, sure! All in the pursuit of peaceful coexistence between the two of us. To be frank, I always hated the idea of having to put some effort on winning someone’s trust or approval; if the person in question trusted me and decided that I was of their liking, great! They’d then learn just how loyal Adam Gontier could be as a friend. Otherwise, I could care less about it, really. Hypocrisy did not suit me.

 

     -   Are you moving this week? – Ariel asked, barely concealing the excitement in her voice, stealing the words from my mouth once more.

     -   Well… I was thinking maybe, if it’s okay for you, I could start bringing my stuff tomorrow afternoon, after work. – He suggested in response, speaking to me.

     -   I have no problem with that. – I shrugged. – You can move in whenever you like.

 

The rest of the brief conversation that took place shortly after that did not matter much, talking about mere small talk originated by the trivial questions that Ariel asked Ben, such as his interests and some other random facts about his life. That’s how I ended up listening to Burnley’s tragic backstory for the second time, presented summarily and concise for my inquiring sister, who appeared totally moved as she listened. Great, more points for him for affecting her! Did he need anything else?

Afterwards, Ariel invited him to have a coffee or a drink somewhere, but the black-haired bashfully declined the offer, excusing himself by telling her that he had to attend his second job at the bar. While she was a little discouraged by this fact, she didn’t give up that easily; she promised she would go watch him play at the bar later on. That made me admire the girl’s persistence. Ben said goodbye and we both accompanied him to the door. We watched him climb into his humble silver _Honda_ , then driving off out of sight on the street when he turned around the corner.

I went back over my steps back to the kitchen, picking up the document from the table and disposing myself to keep it somewhere safe – which was some of the drawers beside my bed. Ariel was stepping on my heels, closing the door behind her and heading nonchalantly to the living room.

 

     -   Alright, what the heck was all of that? – I inquired, crossing arms and leaning a shoulder against the frame of the entrance to the kitchen, staring toward the armchair where Ariel was sitting.

     -   What was what?

     -   You know what I’m talking about, Bloomer. – I replied, arching an eyebrow. – You were flirting with Ben shamelessly just a moment ago.

     -   Oh, that. – I watched her shrug without any trouble. – Yes, well… the guy is cute. What can I say? – She answered, offering me a wide and beaming smirk, those I knew all too well, with that impish and playful hint. – Why? Were you jealous?

I snorted sardonically, rolling eyes at her question.

     -   Ariel, you know I’m not a jealous brother.

     -   I wasn’t talking about me. – She told me with humor, and I looked at her pointedly.

     -   He’s not my type, you know that. – I cut off. – Too shy for me. He’s more like your style, not mine.

     -   So, you’re not even a bit interested? Because, you have to admit it, that boy is  _so fine_ . – The emphasis used in her sentence made me laugh, to be honest. I shook my head, amused. – But seriously, because it seemed to me that you liked him.

     -   I like him, not in that way. – I corrected. – I don’t deny it, he’s adorable. I would have got him laid once at best, but nothing else.

 

I walked up to her, sitting on the armrest of the couch, looking right into her eyes, with all the sincerity that I was capable of showing as a way of reassuring her about it. Ariel stared back at me, a lopsided smile on her face.

 

     -  It’s okay if you like him; I don’t mind. I just don’t want this to be odd or awkward for everyone. – I told her, with honesty. After all, she was my little sister, and I could not deny anything to her. – And please, try not to do that in front of me again, will you? It’s really weird.

She let out a melodious laughter, and then, she stood up once again, smiling at me with a mix of humour and affection in her bright silvery eyes. She ran a hand through my hair, messing it playfully. I complained about it, which seemed to amuse her even more. I smiled too, inevitably.

     -   Well, if so, I’ll call the lads and see if they want to go to the bar at Maple tonight. – She announced, jovially.

     -   Hey! You don’t invite your brother? – I protested with feigned indignation.

     -   You said you didn’t want me to flirt with Ben in front of you. Well, I am going to watch him play and, I don’t know, we could maybe have a drink later. – She replied, smiling. – If you’re not interested, I’m not the one who’ll turn him down. I think I really like this guy.

I sighed, rolling my eyes to the ceiling.

     -   As you like. Anyways, I’m going to see Amanda.

     -   Amanda? Are you still with that controlling witch?

     -   I am.

     -   Why don’t you just break up with her? I thought you were fed up. – She questioned with a grimace.

     -   Why do you think I’ll go see her? – I responded, smirking.

Ariel shook her head, chuckling.

     -   You're a bitch, you know?

     -   I’ve heard of that. – I joked back.

 

I walked her to the door; Mabel had already reappeared and was hopping around us, asking for attention.  Ariel stopped at the threshold to give me a hug and a small kiss on the cheek, as she used to whenever she bid farewell.

 

     -   Try not to get yourself in troubles. She could throw a shoe at your face. – She warned me with humour.

     -   I’ll have that in mind. – I smiled. – Good luck with your business. Don’t drink much, and tell Shawn that I trust him to bring you back home safe and sound, alright?

     -   Yes, mom. – She laughed, walking down the steps. I watched her from the front door until she climbed into her compact car. She waved a hand through the window as a sign of goodbye, lowering it a little past the half. – I love you, Gontier. – She shouted from inside.

     -   I love you too, evil elfin. Take care!

 

I stood there a little longer, with the door half open, staring at the street as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. The truth is that Ariel’s words a few moments ago were starting to resound in my mind, having a real weight this time and forcing me to ponder them.

I could not simply ignore the fact that she had thought I was interested in Ben in that way. What had made her believe that? Honestly, I hadn’t been the most charming person with him so far. If I had really wanted it, I would have acted in a way more attentive and seductive manner, but instead I had treated him like any other guest.  
Actually, it surprised me that my crazy little sister ever had the chance to analyse my stance towards the guy, for her vivacious eyes didn’t left the guy not even a second. And she had good knowledge of my tastes; shy people weren’t my thing, I just couldn’t see myself in a relationship that did not provide equal feedback, if you know what I mean.  
Therefore, Benjamin was not my type at all; even though I couldn’t deny he was handsome and certainly adorable –alright, maybe I lied to Ariel about screwing him just once, but otherwise I wouldn’t have been convincing. Besides, I would never look at someone who was the obvious interest of my younger sister. Not again. The last time that happened, things didn’t end up well for the three of us.

 

I came to myself when I felt a soft tug at the end of my pants, looking down to find a playful Mabel demanding my attention. She was probably hungry.  
I walked back into the house and started to fill – once again – her food bowl; that would keep her quiet for a while, I hoped.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

As I had predicted, there was little activity at the bar when I arrived. Though it would be important to note that it was early still, and it was Monday, so there weren’t expected many customers anyways.  
Meanwhile, and seizing the lack of a numerous audience, I began to tune my guitar leisurely, doing all the necessary soundcheck before the concert that would take place later on on the small stage. And likewise, I was buying some time for the bar manager to arrive, and thus be able to talk to him about the band.  
I wasn't sure if it was all too soon, for we were barely going to start with the rehearsals, but it seemed convenient to me to discuss the topic with the manager the sooner so we could have his consent and the job for granted.

Just when I had successfully completed half of the process, the vibration of my cell phone in my front pocket alerted me about a phone call. I took out the gadget from my pocket, resting the _Telecaster_ on my thigh momentarily, and I looked at the screen before picking up.

 

     -   Hello. Shaun?

     -    _Hi, Ben. How are you doing?_ – He greeted cheerfully through the receiver. 

     -   Good, good… thanks. How about you? How’s everything going?

     -    _Great, thank you. Uh… I called to know how it went with the room and all of that._

     -   Oh, that. Quite well, actually; we already signed the contract and I’ll be moving this week. – I informed him.

     -    _Wow, that’s awesome! I’m so glad for you, Ben!_

     -   Thank you. – I replied a little abashed, not knowing how to go on with the conversation.

A fleet moment of silence which seemed unending to me was stated, until Shaun regained his speech, probably guessing that I couldn’t think of anything else to say then.

     -    _So… Have you thought about a song that you’d like to rehearse on our next meeting?_ – He asked.

     -   I don’t know. Something by Nirvana, maybe? Black Sabbath? I could play whatever you guys decide; the truth is that I haven’t thought much about it, I’m sorry.

     -    _Oh, no, it’s fine. No worries. We don’t have much in mind either, to be honest. We’ve rehearsed before some stuff by Metallica and almost the full discography of Nirvana, but nothing serious._ – Shaun said. – _The guys said they’d love to hear you in the vocals of ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’, and I agree with them._

     -   Really? That sounds good to me, I guess we could try it. – I shrugged modestly; being honest, that wouldn’t be the first time I played that song. It was a Nirvana’s classic, how not to do it!

     -    _Awesome! It’d definitely sound amazing. By the way, have you talked already with the bar manager?_

     -   No, not yet. He arrives later, so when I finish my presentation, I’ll look for him and I’ll tell him about the band. Bet he’ll be fascinated by the idea.

     -    _Let’s hope!_ – Shaun agreed optimistically.

 

To be frank, I don’t know how it happened, but when we realized, Shaun and I had been talking on the phone for nearly twenty minutes. The chat itself wasn’t about anything of great relevance, but I must admit that it was quite nice to spend a moment chatting with the drummer. Sorry for having wasted his time – even though he insisted that it hadn’t been any bother – we said goodbye and agreed to meet during the week to discuss about the band and such stuff. Shaun was a great guy, undoubtedly.

 

I finished tuning my _Pacifica_ and had already done all the soundcheck by the time the spectators had begun to upsurge, waiting for the live presentation. The lingering enthusiasm of the events occurred just during the week happened to be a convenient source of energy and confidence, for I felt less nervous than in other occasions previous to start the wee concert of the night.  
It never ceased amazing me the way I was capable of transforming every time that I was standing with my guitar ready to play, leaving behind that pathetic and timid guy that I usually was completely and devoting myself only to do what I loved the most in life.

Once it was showtime, with the people sitting around on the tables waiting for me to start with my humble concert of that night, I stood before the microphone as in previous times and introduced myself like I did every night, opening with a modest guitar performance of _‘Clocks’_ , one of my favourite songs by Coldplay. Apparently, the product was decent enough to win the listeners’ approval.  
After said number, I played another couple of songs more from my repertory before I began to take the requests of the bar customers. As requested by an enthusiastic woman that went accompanied by her husband, I also played _‘Time After Time’_ , with what she was notably contented. And so, a few more requests were made during the night, the majority of which I had been able to perform successfully – not knowing some of the songs that were asked, unfortunately –, and I also played more songs that the audience received happily and with applause, which granted another success for me that night.

But before I gave it a night, a new petition was made by someone in the audience.

     -   Can you play _‘What I’ve Done’_ by Linkin Park for me? – Asked a voice that sounded terribly familiar.

Before my brain worked it out the right way and threw the name of whom that voice belonged to, my eyes had already caught a glimpse of pink hair among the spectators. The shining smile of Ariel greeted me from her place, one of the tables that were closer to the stage. It was impossible for me not to return the gesture likewise.

     -   Of course, young lady. – I nodded in response through the mic. – I’ll do what I can.

A tinkling laughter came out of her pink lips at my reply, the gleam in her silvery eyes being enough to belittle the flashing lights around me.

I placed my fingers over the strings of my ebony _Pacifica_ , getting ready to start with the requested song, positioning them over the right notes. The initial riff flew through the strings in a second, reverbing around the place through my guitar’s amplifier and filling everything with the melody. I tried to imagine how it would have sounded if there had been a battery and a bass accompanying me, intoning then the song in a more precise way.

     -    _In this farewell there’s no blood, there’s no alibi…_

I voiced the lyrics, enouncing each line as I remembered the words that came next on each verse, my fingertips stroking the strings and producing a tempo the chords simultaneously. The songs surged almost by itself with more success than what I had supposed at first, and the listeners appreciated it likewise.

When finished the song, I thanked the audience once again; Ariel applauded and smiled brightly, like an excited little girl would while opening her Christmas presents. Her enthusiasm was contagious, someway, causing me a curious tickle in the stomach – though it could have been the adrenaline’s side effect, which slowly diminished in my system after the concert. By the time I had finished unplugging the equipment and put my guitar back into its black case, the girl was already waiting for me at the edge of the stage, wearing that pretty smile full of white teeth. I walked up to her, carrying my stuff and going down the step to the small stage.

     -   You were marvellous! – Ariel praised with ovation. – That was the best cover of _‘What I’ve Done’_ that I’ve ever heard, no doubt. It was amazing, you’re amazing!

     -   Why thank you. This must be the greatest amount of compliments I’ve ever get in all my years as a musician.

     -   Well, that’s hard to believe. You deserve all the praising in the world! Seriously, Ben, you’re awesome. – She insisted, so euphoric it seemed impossible to me that such amount of energy could be contained by such a petit body. 

I chuckled, averting my gaze to the ground, a little sheepish.

     -   I don’t think it was that grand, frankly. But anyways, I appreciate the kudos. – I replied shrugging, not pretending any modesty at all.

     -   Nonsense! – She said, waving a hand to the air.

We headed off toward the bar, for I still had to talk to the manager and ask for my payment for the night. Ariel looked pleased, and now that I thought about it, it surprised me that I hadn’t noticed her in my previous performances – due to her appearance could easily catch the eye, in a good way. It was not like if I was that observant, either, and she had also mentioned that she didn’t hang out that often.

She turned to me with those bright silver eyes, looking at me with some curiosity as we got to the bar, where many customers were drinking happily.

     -   Do you have something to do now? Because I was thinking we could have a drink and talk a little. – She told me. – The truth is that I came here with some friends, and I’d love it if you all met. They’re my bandmates, in fact.

     -   Yeah? That’s great. Sure, thanks. – I responded with a smile. – Actually, I only have to talk to the manager. After that, I’m free.

     -   Fantastic! Sure, there’s no problem. – Ariel nodded, excited at my positive answer. – We’ll be over there, at that table. When you’re done, you can join us.

     -   I will.

 

And that being said, the girl walked away in a gracile pace, almost skipping towards the indicated table, where a trio of guys were already sitting there and waiting for her. At bare eye, their _rockers_ look fitted perfectly with Ariel’s unique style, and even though that made them seem kind of intimidating, I wanted to believe that they couldn’t be that bad if they were friends with the girl.

Meanwhile, I let out a soft sigh and turned to wait for the aforementioned manager. I felt a little nervous on advance, which would sound illogical for I had spoken with that same dude several times before, but for some reason I feared he wouldn’t accept the idea of the band that easily as I had formerly believed. However, I didn’t want to lose hope. If it wasn’t here, we could always find some other places where we could play, isn’t it?

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

     -   You’re a fucking asshole, Adam Gontier! I hate you! Filthy bastard! I hate you! I wish I had never met you!

     -   That’s what I wish too, you crazy manipulative witch! – I shouted back at her as I walked out of the apartment.

 

Of all the possible civilized and sensitive ways I’ve planned in advance to break up with Amanda once and for all, I definitely didn’t think that things would end up that way. Of course I had expected some drama from her, but my imagination hadn’t reached such extremes. I don’t know how she did it – she must have had better aim than what I’d expected, honestly – but she managed to strike me a good blow on the shoulder with one of her shoes she had thrown me on my way.

I must admit that that hadn’t been my best behavior, let alone aimed to a girl. But in general I considered myself a respectful guy, until they get on my nerves like she had managed to. Sure thing insulting her hadn’t been the most prudent, but in my defense, all aggression had started on her side.

Anyways, I was a free man now. Free, and with half an arm numb because of the blow. She was unhinged! Grumbling and swearing to myself, I hurried up to my bike before receiving any other jilted attack from Amanda, urging to leave. I started the _Harley_ ’s engine and drove off away from her apartment block, not really minding where I was going. I needed a nice cold beer to forget about the bitter swill of such an awful breakup. Maybe I could call Brad and meet at some bar in the zone, surely he wouldn’t oppose to the plan.

I parked briefly around the corner, a few blocks away from where Amanda lived – who evidently didn’t expect me to break up with her – so that I could type the number of my friend on the phone; it took me two seconds thanks to the speed dial, and Brad always picked up by the second ringing.

 

     -    _What’s up, dude?_

     -   Hey, Brad. I thought you’d like to have a couple of beers with me.

     -    _What is the occasion?_ – He asked, with the usual mix of suspiciousness and curiosity in his voice whenever I suggested any plans.

     -   Well, I broke up with Amanda. – I admitted lightly.

     -    _Really? Wow, it was about time!_ – The blond laughed at the other end of the line, to what I smiled amusedly. – _Where are we going to celebrate, then?_

     -   I’m around Maple. Is it alright if we meet at the bar there in half an hour?

     -    _Alright. Do you want me to invite the lads?_

     -   Sure, tell ‘em. I think it’s an occasion that will gladden everyone. – I joked.

     -    _Indeed! And you must tell us how it went._

     -   Oh, believe me… you’ll rather laugh when you hear the story.

Brad’s loud bark of laughter almost deafened me through the receiver, he had to have noticed the tone of displeasure in my voice as I commented this.

     -    _Well, then… we’ll see you there in thirty minutes._ – Reasserted my friend; I overheard the voice of his brother, Matt, at the background, so I deduced he was at his parent’s.

     -   Yep. You may invite Matty, if you like. – I suggested.

     -    _I’d rather not._ – I could notice the awkwardness in his voice. – _See you._

     -   Bye.

 

We both hung up. I put my cellphone back into the pocket of my jacket and started the bike. I could not blame Brad for preventing me from seeing his younger brother after what had happened the last time; I knew that, if I were in his place, I wouldn’t like it that my sister hung out with him either. If I had ever let Brad down somehow, it had been that one time.

Without further ado nor any other reason to delay my departing, I headed off to Maple Avenue; probably I could surprise my dear little sister there, though I wasn’t sure I would like to walk in the same room where she would be flirting with my new housemate. Hopefully, I would listen to Ben playing.

 

Traffic turned out to be heavier than I had expected, but I arrived to the bar at a reasonable hour, barely a few minutes late according to what had been agreed. Well, it was the lads, anyways; they knew me well enough, and there was no formalities in it.  
I parked my beautiful _Harley_ and walked into the pub, my gaze wandering around the place looking for my pals. I wasn’t surprised when I spotted Ariel and her two mates – and another guy I didn’t know – sitting at a table at the back, for I was aware that they’d be there. Nonetheless, it was strange not to see Benjamin anywhere around when he was supposed to be with them or at the stage. For what I could see, his little show had already ended. A shame, I thought. I would listen to him some other time, if I ever felt like coming around this place again one of these days.

Finally, my eyes found the location of my three mates, a few tables away from where Ariel and her friends were. Neil waved an arm over his head, aiming to call my attention. I smiled and waved back at him, letting them know that I had already seen them, and started off toward them to meet them.

I hadn’t even moved three steps from my spot when my shoulder bumped into that of someone else who seemed to head the same direction. I turned around, undecided whether to apologize for not paying attention or to pick up a fight and blame the other. However, I didn’t have a chance to carry out with any of those, for the other person went ahead.

 

     -   I’m sorry. – Apologized the monumentally tall guy (and coming from me, it ought to be regarded).

It took me a split second to recognize the voice and the height of the dude whom I had come across before my gaze found a couple of hazel eyes.

     -   Ben?

     -   Adam! – He greeted when he recognized me too. – Hi. Sorry, I didn’t see you.

     -   It’s okay. – I replied lightly, with a smile. – I was starting to worry about not seeing you around.

The guy smiled, a bit shyly. Seriously, when would he just leave that behind? It wasn’t like if I was a stranger anymore.

     -   You came here with Ariel? – He asked me.

     -   Uh, no. I’m meeting some pals, actually. – I admitted, pointing with a brief nod to my table. Ben followed my gaze and nodded as well.

     -   Oh, I see. – He said, his soft voice barely audible over the clatter of the background music. He dug his hands into his pockets, as a sign of nervousness or anxiety. – Well…

I smiled at him, patting his shoulder friendly, guessing what he meant to say. It was probably hard or awkward for him to find the words to tell me he was meeting my sister, fearing my reaction.

     -   Sure, go.

He nodded again, looking at me as if he was considering to say anything else.

     -   See you later, I guess.

     -   Of course, see you. – I said as a goodbye.

 

Each of us resumed our respective ways then, so I went to meet my friends at the table. The three of them were staring at me with curiosity and interest, most likely wondering about the guy. Neil was arching an eyebrow at me, and I noticed how Brad supressed a smirk. I rolled eyes and sat between Brad and Neil, so that I was facing Barry – who hopefully would be the one who commented the least about it.

 

     -   What now? – I blurted out, staring back at them.

     -   Who was the sexy guy? – Neil asked me, roguishly.

     -   Ugh, please! You too? – I winced at the blonde’s words. I had enough with Ariel blabbering about him, I didn’t need another admirer of his. – For the record, that was Benjamin.

     -   Benjamin? Damn, he’s really tall! – Brad commented, taking a sip from the beer he had in hand.

     -   Or you’re a hobbit. – I noted mockingly, what costed me a nudge from him for.

Neil and I laughed at my comment, to which Barry simply shook his head feigning disapproval, yet wearing an amused smirk on his face.

     -   What a hunk you’ve got for housemate, Gontier. – Neil teased. – Sometimes I wonder how you could be so lucky.

     -   It’s the Gontier’s magic. – Said Barry, laughing.

     -   And a magician never reveals their trick. – I added with a wink.

     -   So, you do like him? – Brad inquired, squinting at me a little bit suspicious, but deep down I knew that it was all meant to annoy me.

I rolled my eyes again.

     -   I already told you I don’t. He’s not my type. – I retorted tediously, for the umpteenth time. Seriously, why the heck did they insist so much on that? To be bisexual didn’t mean that I would be attracted to every guy or girl who passed in front of me. – And better not to stare that much either, Sanderson. My sister is the one who fancies him.

     -   Ouch! Now that’s awkward. – Barry said, wincing when he understood my predicament.

     -   Tell me about it! – I sighed.

Neil shrugged, apparently unaffected by this fact.

     -   There will be more fish in the sea, I guess. – He said lightly, nonchalantly, taking a sip of his drink.

I wondered then why I didn’t have one yet, and the oldest of the four of us seemed to deduce with a glance, for he smirked and waved at the waitress to bring me a beer too, which I appreciated.

     -   Not your type, then. – The taller blond insisted.

I let my hand hit the table, palm facing the hard surface, along with a snort that denoted my annoyance. How many times did I have to repeat it? They were going to make me mad for real if they carried on with that.

     -   No, he’s not. And he’s not yours either, get over it! – I reproached.

     -   Why? – Brad’s question sounded innocent enough for me to answer it without slapping him on the face.

     -   Because he’s not, period. Believe me: that dude’s not only shy, he’s the Cowardly lion!

Barry chuckled at my words, and at the same time the waitress came back with a glass of cold beer and put it in front of me. I thanked her and she walked away once again, leaving us alone with our little argument.

     -   Okay, okay… Whatever. Why don’t you chill out, drink that beer and tell us for fucking once what happened with your ex-girlfriend? – The older suggested, amusedly.

And, apparently, we all agreed to that. However, as soon as I had taken a sip of my beer, preparing myself to start with the narration of my disastrous breakup, when a very gleeful Ariel approached our table, smiling.

     -   Hello, guys! – She greeted.

     -   Hi. – Barry and Brad replied in unison.

     -   What’s up, _R*_? – Neil welcomed as well, with his typical carefreeness.

     -   Hey, pixie. Weren’t you with your friends? – I interrogated, arching an eyebrow.

     -   What, can’t I come and say hi to my older brother?

     -   Wow, this is the second time today you want to say hi to me. – I commented sarcastically.

The pink-haired girl rolled her eyes, holding back the urge to smack me on the head or something like that.

     -   Did you come alone? – Brad asked, getting her attention.

     -   No, I came with my boys, actually. – Ariel replied, and she chuckled at some inner joke, with a slight blush on her cheeks. I realized what her words implied and frowned.

     -   Oh, great.

     -   Why don’t you bring your chairs and we share the table? Adam was about to tell us how he broke up with his ‘ _witch-friend’_. – Neil suggested, smiling at my sister.

The guys laughed at the pejorative the blond had used to refer to Amanda, which I admit I found amusing too, but the suggestion itself didn’t seem so ideal to me – not because I cared much about my little sister’s friends getting to know my romantic history or anything, no way!

Despite my obvious discrepancy, Ariel appeared to be more than content with the idea.

     -   Oh, God! I want to hear the story, too! Hold on, I’ll bring the guys. Don’t start without me. – She announced before she was rushing back to her table to tell her mates about it.

I grumbled, crossing my arms and glaring at Neil. The aforementioned just laughed at my expression, brazenly.

     -   Sure, publicize my personal life, Christopher. It’s not like if I wanted to keep it private or anything. – I spat bitterly, which only amused him even more.

     -   Chill, Adam. It’s not that bad. – Neil said. – Besides, you don’t even know what privacy is.

     -   So what? It's my business!

     -   Adam is right, Neil. – Barry agreed with a shrug.

     -   Thanks, Barry.

     -   Are we going to listen to the damn story, yes or no? – Brad interfered, staring at the three of us with some annoyance.

 

We three fell silent and looked at the blond with faces of scolded children. And it is that when Brad was upset about something – he, being such a chill and friendly guy, always kind and attentive with everyone around –, it was worthy of fear.

Right then, Ariel’s friends approached our table, each of them carrying their respective chairs – except my sister, of course, since Ben had been kind enough to carry her chair for her, gesture that got her all head over hills about him – and placing them around our table, so it was required for us to move and give them some room.

 

     -   Hey, men! What’s up? – Shawn went ahead to greet, and I responded with a friendly bro-fist.

     -   Hi, dude. – I smiled back at him.

 

Shawn Jump was my dear little sister’s best friend since they were both in elementary school, they were just as close as Brad and I were, and that’s why I was so familiarized with him. He was a good guy, and he always looked after Ariel whenever I wasn’t present. His crazy Mohawk was what characterized him best; he and Ariel had founded their own rock band some time ago, along with the guy’s second best friend, Adam Kronshagen – yes, he was named the same like me, which was kind of confusing whenever we both were in the same room.

 

     -   Hi. – Greeted the last as well, sitting down with the others.

     -   Guys, this is Josh Kincheloe, our new bassist. – Ariel introduced the brown-haired guy I hadn’t recognized before, who smiled and waved at us in salute, and then she pointed at my new housemate. – And this is Ben. Guess you’ve already heard about him.

     -   Nice to meet you. – Brad said affably, speaking to the two of them. – I am Brad, bassist.

Ben approached to shake his hand, since anyways he was going to sit between me and him due to the distribution of the places around the table, in an awkward but adorable gesture of courtesy from him.

     -   Ben Burnley. It’s a pleasure.

     -   Barry Stock. I’m the guitar player of these suckers’ band. – The older man introduced himself too, holding out his hand to Ben.

The smile on the black haired guy’s face shone with genuine amusement at his words, and then he rounded the table to greet the blond missing as well, who seemed to be about to jump out of his chair in sheer anticipation. I held back the urge to roll my eyes this time, being everyone present.

     -   I’m Neil Sanderson. – He said, finally, as he gladly shook Ben’s hand. – Drummer, single. So pleased to meet you.

  

That said, the cheeks of the poor guy turned a bright and known cherry colour, coyly returning to his place and sitting on his corresponding chair beside me. I sent a mocking ‘I told you’ glance at my friend, once he had had his own first impression of the dark haired. He replied with a nonchalant shrug. Ariel was throwing a subtle glare at the blond too, but did not openly express anything about it – for some reason, I suspected she would end up taking it out on me, anyway.

With some luck, just as Neil had declared previously, I managed to change topics and spare myself from publishing my breakup with Ariel’s friends as soon as we started talking about trivia, music and our respective bands. Of course, we seized the fact that Josh shared spotlight with Ben to ask stuff about him and how he had been admitted to be part of my sister’s band. My story would be told perhaps in a much more private occasion. There was no need to ruin it, now was it?

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * The lads (mostly Brad) call Ariel after the petname 'R', since the pronunciation of her name (according to the English alphabet's articulation) is 'R-E-L', so this is in order to abreviate it.
> 
> [ ^ This of course is not for real, and I do not know if someone else has ever thought of this, so in the case they haven't I take all credits for the idea. Also, I remind you that none of the backstories are true (fortunatelly), and Amanda's character is fictional - the same as some others that will appear later on in the fanfic, mainly as ex's or dates. ]
> 
> Thanks for reading, and sorry for the delay! xx


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